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TH  E  TRAI L  BOO  K.     Illustrated  by  Milo  Winter 

THE  FORD.     Illustrated 

THE  LAND  OF  LITTLE  RAIN 

ISIDRO 

THE  BASKET  WOMAN 

THE  FLOCK 

LOST  BORDERS 

THE  ARROW  MAKER 

CHRIST  IN  ITALY 

THE  GREEN  BOUGH 

LOVE  AND  THE  SOUL-MAKER 

A  WOMAN  OF  GENIUS 

THE  LOVELY   LADY 

THE  LAND  OF  THE  SUN 

THE  MAN  JESUS 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 


' Arr-rr-ump ! '  I  said  "  (page  21) 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

BY 
MARY  AUSTIN 

WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS  BY  MILO  WINTER 


BOSTON  AND  NEW  YORK 

HOUGHTON  MIFFLIN  COMPANY 

fttoersi&e  press?  Cambtibge 
1918 


COPYRIGHT,  1918,  BY  MARY  AUSTIN 
ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED 

Published  October  ggi8 


TS  V 

US 
Ti 


TO  MAHY,  MY  NIECE 

IN  THE  HOPE  THAT  SHE  MAY  FIND 

THROUGH  THE  TRAILS  OF  HER  OWN  COUNTRY 

THE  ROAD  TO  WONDERLAND 


fft  My    ,4    f\ 


CONTENTS 
i 

How  OLIVER  AND  DORCAS  JANE  FOUND  THE  TRAIL  .      .      i 

II 

WHAT  THE  BUFFALO  CHIEF  TOLD 7 

III 

How  THE  MASTODON  HAPPENED  FIRST  TO  BELONG  TO  A 
MAN,  AS  TOLD  BY  ARRUMPA i5 

IV 

THE  SECOND  PART  OF  THE  MASTODON  STORY,  CONCERN 
ING  THE  TRAIL  TO  THE  SEA  AND  THE  TALKING  STICK 
OF  TAKU-WAKIN  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .82 

V 

HOW  HOWKA WANDA  AND  FRIEND-AT-THE-BACK  FOUND 
THE  TRAIL  TO  THE  BUFFALO  COUNTRY;  TOLD  BY  THE 
COYOTE 5o 

VI 

DORCAS  JANE  HEARS  HOW  THE  CORN  CAME  TO  THE 
VALLEY  OF  THE  Missi-Sippu;  TOLD  BY  THE  CORN 
WOMAN 70 

VII 

A  TELLING  OF  THE  SALT  TRAIL,  OF  TSE-TSE-YOTE  AND 
THE  DELIGHT-MAKERS;  TOLD  BY  MOKE-ICHA  .  .  96 

vii 


CONTENTS 

VIII 

YOUNG-MAN- WHO-NEVER-TURNS-BACK:  A  TELLING  OF 
THE  TALLEGEWI,  BY  ONE  OF  THEM 124 

IX 

How  THE  LENNI-LENAPE  CAME  FROM  SHINAKI  AND  THE 
TALLEGEWI  FOUGHT  THEM:  THE  SECOND  PART  OF  THE 
MOUND-BUILDER'S  STORY i44 

X 

THE  MAKING  OF  A  SHAMAN:  A  TELLING  OF  THE  IRO- 
QUOIS  TRAIL,  BY  THE  ONONDAGA 166 

XI 

THE  PEARLS  OF  COFACHIQUE:  How  LUCAS  DE  AYLLON 

CAME  TO  LOOK  FOR  THEM  AND  WHAT  THE  CACICA  FAR- 

LOOKING  DID  TO  HIM;  TOLD  BY  THE  PELICAN  .      .      .  186 

XII 

How  THE  IRON  SHIRTS  CAME  TO  TUSCALOOSA:  A  TELLING 
OF  THE  TRIBUTE  ROAD  BY  THE  LADY  OF  COFACHIQUE  .  206 

XIII 

How  THE  IRON  SHIRTS  CAME  LOOKING  FOR  THE  SEVEN 
CITIES  OF  CIBOLA;  TOLD  BY  THE  ROAD-RUNNER  .  .  226 

XIV 

How  THE  MAN  OF  Two  HEARTS  KEPT  THE  SECRET  OF 
THE  HOLY  PLACES;  TOLD  BY  THE  CONDOR  .  .  .  243 

viii 


CONTENTS 

XV 

How  THE  MEDICINE  OF  THE  ARROWS  WAS  BROKEN  AT 
REPUBLICAN  RIVER;  TOLD  BY  THE  CHIEF  OFFICER  OF 
THE  DOG  SOLDIERS 267 

APPENDIX 286 

GLOSSARY  .  3o3 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


«t   4 


ARR-RR-UMP!' I  SAID"     .      .      .      .  Colored  Frontispiece 

THE  BUFFALO  CHIEF i 

THE  MASTODON 7 

TAKU  AND  ARRUMPA i5 

THE  TRAIL  TO  THE  SEA    .      .      .      .      .      ...    82 

THE  TRAIL  TO  THE  BUFFALO  COUNTRY  .    5o 

"  SHOT  DOWNWARD  TO  THE  LEDGE  WHERE  HOWKAWANDA 

AND  YOUNGER  BROTHER  HUGGED  THEMSELVES"  (in 

color) .       • 62 

THE  CORN  WOMEN 70 

SIGN  OF  THE  SUN  AND  THE  FOUR  QUARTERS  .  g5 

MOKE-ICHA g6 

TSE-TSE-YOTE  AND  MoKE-ICHA  (in  Color)             .         .  IO2 

TSE-TSE-YOTE  AND  MOKE-ICHA 12/1 

THE  MOUND-BUILDERS i44 

THE  IROQUOIS  TRAIL 166 

THE  GOLD-SEEKERS 186 

"SHE  COULD  SEE  THE  THOUGHTS  OF  A  MAN  WHILE  THEY 

WERE  STILL  IN  HIS  HEART"  (in  Color)      .        .         .         .    IQ2 

THE  CACICA  FAR-LOOKING  MEETS  THE  IRON  SHIRTS    .  206 

THE  DESERT 226 

THE  CONDOR  THAT  HAS  HIS  NEST  ON  EL  MORRO  .      .  243 

THE  DOG  SOLDIERS 267 

xi 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 


HOW  OLIVER  AND  DORCAS  JANE  FOUND  THE  TRAIL 

FROM  the  time  that  he  had  first  found  himself 
alone  with  them,  Oliver  had  felt  sure  that  the  ani 
mals  could  come  alive  again  if  they  wished.  That 
was  one  blowy  afternoon  about  a  week  after  his 
father  had  been  made  night  engineer  and  nobody 
had  come  into  the  Museum  for  several  hours. 

Oliver  had  been  sitting  for  some  time  in  front  of 
the  Buffalo  case,  wondering  what  might  be  at  the 
other  end  of  the  trail.  The  cows  that  stood  midway 
in  it  had  such  a  going  look.  He  was  sure  it  must  lead, 
past  the  hummock  where  the  old  bull  flourished 
his  tail,  to  one  of  those  places  where  he  had  always 
wished  to  be.  All  at  once,  as  the  boy  sat  there 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

thinking  about  it,  the  glass  case  disappeared  and 
the  trail  shot  out  like  a  dark  snake  over  a  great 
stretch  of  rolling,  grass-covered  prairie. 

He  could  see  the  tops  of  the  grasses  stirring  like 
the  hair  on  the  old  Buffalo's  coat,  and  the  ripple 
of  water  on  the  beaver  pool  which  was  just  oppo 
site  and  yet  somehow  only  to  be  reached  after 
long  travel  through  the  Buffalo  Country.  The  wind 
moved  on  the  grass,  on  the  surface  of  the  water 
and  the  young  leaves  of  the  alders,  and  over  all  the 
animals  came  the  start  and  stir  of  life. 

And  then  the  slow,  shuffling  steps  of  the  Museum 
attendant  startled  it  all  into  stillness  again. 

The  attendant  spoke  to  Oliver  as  he  passed,  for 
even  a  small  boy  is  worth  talking  to  when  you  have 
been  all  day  in  a  Museum  where  nothing  is  new 
to  you  and  nobody  comes. 

"You  want  to  look  out,  son,"  said  the  attendant, 
who  really  liked  the  boy  and  had  n't  a  notion  what 
sort  of  ideas  he  was  putting  into  Oliver's  head. 
"  If  you  ain't  careful,  some  of  them  things  will  come 
downstairs  some  night  and  go  off  with  ye." 

And  why  should  MacShea  have  said  that  if  he 
had  n't  known  for  certain  that  the  animals  did  come 
alive  at  night?  That  was  the  way  Oliver  put  it  when 
he  was  trying  to  describe  this  extraordinary  experi 
ence  to  his  sister. 

Dorcas  Jane,  who  was  eleven  and  a  half  and  not 
at  all  imaginative,  eyed  him  suspiciously.  Oliver 


OLIVER  AND  DORCAS  JANE 

had  such  a  way  of  stating  things  that  were  not  at 
all  believable,  in  a  way  that  made  them  seem  the 
likeliest  things  in  the  world.  He  was  even  capa 
ble  of  acting  for  days  as  if  things  were  so,  which 
you  knew  from  the  beginning  were  only  the  most 
delightful  of  make-believes.  Life  on  this  basis  was 
immensely  more  exciting,  but  then  you  never  knew 
whether  or  not  he  might  be  what  some  of  his  boy 
friends  called  "stringing  you,"  so  when  Oliver 
began  to  hint  darkly  at  his  belief  that  the  stuffed 
animals  in  the  Mammal  room  of  the  Museum 
came  alive  at  night  and  had  larks  of  their  own, 
Dorcas  Jane  offered  the  most  noncommittal  ob 
jection  that  occurred  to  her. 

"They  couldn't,"  she  said;  "the  night  watch 
man  would  n't  let  them."  There  were  watchmen, 
she  knew,  who  went  the  rounds  of  every  floor. 

But,  insisted  Oliver,  why  should  they  have 
watchmen  at  all,  if  not  to  prevent  people  from 
breaking  in  and  disturbing  the  animals  when  they 
were  busy  with  affairs  of  their  own?  He  meant  to 
stay  up  there  himself  some  night  and  see  what  it 
was  all  about;  and  as  he  went  on  to  explain  how 
it  would  be  possible  to  slip  up  the  great  stair  while 
the  watchmen  were  at  the  far  end  of  the  long  hall, 
and  of  the  places  one  could  hide  if  the  watchman 
came  along  when  he  was  n't  wanted,  he  said  "we" 
and  "us."  For,  of  course,  he  meant  to  take  Dorcas 
Jane  with  him.  Where  would  be  the  fun  of  such  an 

3 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

adventure  if  you  had  it  alone?  And  besides,  Oliver 
had  discovered  that  it  was  not  at  all  difficult  to 
scare  himself  with  the  things  he  had  merely  imag 
ined.  There  were  times  when  Dorcas  Jane's  frank 
disbelief  was  a  great  comfort  to  him.  Still,  he 
was  n't  the  sort  of  boy  to  be  scared  before  any 
thing  has  really  happened,  so  when  Dorcas  Jane 
suggested  that  they  didn't  know  what  the  ani 
mals  might  do  to  any  one  who  went  among  them 
uninvited,  he  threw  it  off  stoutly. 

"  Pshaw !  They  can't  do  anything  to  us !  They  're 
stuffed,  Silly!" 

And  to  Dorcas  Jane,  who  was  by  this  time 
completely  under  the  spell  of  the  adventure,  it 
seemed  quite  likely  that  the  animals  should  be 
stuffed  so  that  they  could  n't  hurt  you,  and  yet 
not  stuffed  so  much  that  they  could  n't  come  alive 
again. 

It  was  all  of  a  week  before  they  could  begin. 
There  is  a  kind  of  feeling  you  have  to  have  about 
an  adventure  without  which  the  affair  does  n't 
come  off  properly.  Anybody  who  has  been  much 
by  himself  in  the  woods  has  had  it;  or  sometime, 
when  you  are  all  alone  in  the  house,  all  at  once 
there  comes  a  kind  of  pricking  of  your  skin  and  a 
tightness  in  your  chest,  not  at  all  unpleasant,  and 
a  kind  of  feeling  that  the  furniture  has  its  eye  on 
you,  or  that  some  one  behind  your  shoulder  is 
about  to  speak,  and  immediately  after  that  some- 


OLIVER  AND  DORCAS  JANE 

thing  happens.  Or  you  feel  sure  it  would  have 
happened  if  somebody  had  n't  interrupted. 

Dorcas  Jane  never  had  feelings  like  that.  But 
about  a  week  after  Oliver  had  proposed  to  her  that 
they  spend  a  part  of  the  night  in  the  long  gallery, 
he  was  standing  in  front  of  the  Buffalo  case,  won 
dering  what  actually  did  happen  when  a  buffalo 
caught  you.  Quite  unexpectedly,  deep  behind  the 
big  bull's  glassy  eye,  he  caught  a  gleam  as  of  an 
other  eye  looking  at  him,  meaningly,  and  with  a 
great  deal  of  friendliness.  Oliver  felt  prickles  come 
out  suddenly  all  over  his  body,  and  without  quite 
knowing  why,  he  began  to  move  away  from  that 
place,  tip-toe  and  slippingly,  like  a  wild  creature 
in  the  woods  when  it  does  not  know  who  may  be 
about.  He  told  himself  it  would  never  do  to  have 
the  animals  come  alive  without  Dorcas  Jane,  and 
before  all  those  stupid,  staring  folk  who  might 
come  in  at  any  minute  and  spoil  everything. 

That  night,  after  their  father  had  gone  off  clank 
ing  to  his  furnaces,  Dorcas  heard  her  brother  tap 
ping  on  the  partition  between  their  rooms,  as  he 
did  sometimes  when  they  played  "prisoner."  She 
knew  exactly  what  he  meant  by  it  and  tapped  back 
that  she  was  ready. 

Everything  worked  out  just  as  they  had  planned. 
They  heard  the  strange,  hollow-sounding  echoes 
of  the  watchman's  voice  dying  down  the  halls,  as 
stair  by  stair  they  dropped  the  street  lamps  below 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

them,  and  saw  strange  shadows  start  out  of  things 
that  were  perfectly  harmless  and  familiar  by  day. 

There  was  no  light  in  the  gallery  except  faint 
up-and-down  glimmers  from  the  glass  of  the  cases, 
and  here  and  there  the  little  spark  of  an  eye.  Out 
side  there  was  a  whole  world  of  light,  the  milky 
way  of  the  street  with  the  meteor  roar  of  the  Ele 
vated  going  by,  processions  of  small  moons  march 
ing  below  them  across  the  park,  and  blazing  con 
stellations  in  the  high  windows  opposite.  Tucked 
into  one  of  the  window  benches  between  the  cases, 
the  children  seemed  to  swing  into  another  world 
where  almost  anything  might  happen.  And  yet 
for  at  least  a  quarter  of  an  hour  nothing  did. 

"I  don't  believe  nothing  ever  does,"  said  Dorcas 
Jane,  who  was  not  at  all  careful  of  her  grammar. 

"Sh-sh!"  said  Oliver.  They  had  sat  down  di 
rectly  in  front  of  the  Buffalo  Trail,  though  Dorcas 
would  have  preferred  to  be  farther  away  from  the 
Polar  Bear.  For  suppose  it  had  n't  been  properly 
stuffed!  But  Oliver  had  eyes  only  for  the  trail. 

"  I  want  to  see  where  it  begins  and  where  it  goes," 
he  insisted. 

So  they  sat  and  waited,  and  though  the  great 
building  was  never  allowed  to  grow  quite  cold,  it 
was  cool  enough  to  make  it  pleasant  for  them  to 
sit  close  together  and  for  Dorcas  to  tuck  her  hand 
into  the  crook  of  his  arm.  .  .  . 

All  at  once  the  Bull  Buffalo  shook  himself. 

6 


II 

WHAT  THE  BUFFALO  CHIEF  TOLD 

"Wake!  Wake!1'  said  the  Bull  Buffalo,  with  a  roll 
to  it,  as  though  the  word  had  been  shouted  in  a 
deep  voice  down  an  empty  barrel.  He  shook  the 
dust  out  of  his  mane  and  stamped  his  fore-foot  to 
set  the  herd  in  motion.  There  were  thousands  of 
them  feeding  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  across 
the  prairie,  yearlings  and  cows  with  their  calves 
of  that  season,  and  here  and  there  a  bull,  tossing 
his  heavy  head  and  sending  up  light  puffs  of  dust 
under  the  pawings  of  his  hoof  as  he  took  up  the 
leader's  signal. 

"Wake!  Wa— ake!" 

It  rolled  along  the  ground  like  thunder.  At  the 
sound  the  herds  gathered  themselves  from  the 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

prairie,  they  turned  back  from  the  licks,  they 
rose  up  plop  from  the  wallows,  trotting  singly  in  the 
trails  that  rayed  out  to  every  part  of  the  pastures 
and  led  up  toward  the  high  ridges. 

"  Wa-ak — "  began  the  old  bull;  then  he  stopped 
short,  threw  up  his  head,  sniffing  the  wind,  and 
ended  with  a  sharp  snort  which  changed  the  words 
to  "What?  What?" 

"What's  this,"  said  the  Bull  Buffalo,  "Pale 
Faces?" 

"They  are  very  young,"  said  the  young  cow, 
the  one  with  the  going  look.  She  had  just  been 
taken  into  the  herd  that  season  and  had  the  place 
of  the  favorite  next  to  the  leader. 

"If  you  please,  sir,"  said  Oliver,  "we  only  wished 
to  know  where  the  trail  went." 

"Why,"  said  the  Buffalo  Chief,  surprised,  "to 
the  Buffalo  roads,  of  course.  We  must  be  changing 
pasture."  As  he  pawed  contempt  upon  the  short, 
dry  grass,  the  rattlesnake,  that  had  been  sunning 
himself  at  the  foot  of  the  hummock,  slid  away 
under  the  bleached  buffalo  skull,  and  the  small, 
furry  things  dived  everywhere  into  their  burrows. 

"That  is  the  way  always,"  said  the  young  cow, 
"when  the  Buffalo  People  begin  their  travels.  Not 
even  a  wolf  will  stay  in  the  midst  of  the  herds; 
there  would  be  nothing  left  of  him  by  the  time  the 
hooves  had  passed  over." 

The  children  could  see  how  that  might  be,  for  as 


WHAT  THE  BUFFALO  CHIEF  TOLD 

the  thin  lines  began  to  converge  toward  the  high 
places,  it  was  as  if  the  whole  prairie  had  turned 
black  and  moving.  Where  the  trails  drew  out  of  the 
flat  lands  to  the  watersheds,  they  were  wide  enough 
for  eight  or  ten  to  walk  abreast,  trodden  hard  and 
white  as  country  roads.  There  was  a  deep,  con 
tinuous  murmur  from  the  cows  like  the  voice  of 
the  earth  talking  to  itself  at  twilight. 

"  Come,"  said  the  old  bull, "  we  must  be  moving." 

"But  what  is  that?"  said  Dorcas  Jane,  as  a  new 
sound  came  from  the  direction  of  the  river,  a  long 
chant  stretching  itself  like  a  snake  across  the  prai 
rie,  and  as  they  listened  there  were  words  that  lifted 
and  fell  with  an  odd  little  pony  joggle. 

"That  is  the  Pawnees,  singing  their  travel  song," 
said  the  Buffalo  Chief. 

And  as  he  spoke  they  could  see  the  eagle  bonnets 
of  the  tribesmen  coming  up  the  hollow,  every  man 
mounted,  with  his  round  shield  and  the  point  of  his 
lance  tilted  forward.  After  them  came  the  women 
on  the  pack-ponies  with  the  goods,  and  the  chil 
dren  stowed  on  the  travoises  of  lodge-poles  that 
trailed  from  the  ponies'  withers. 

"Ha-ah,"  said  the  old  bull.  "One  has  laid  his 
ear  to  the  ground  in  their  lodges  and  has  heard  the 
earth  tremble  with  the  passing  of  the  Buffalo 
People." 

"But  where  do  they  go?"  said  Dorcas. 

"They  follow  the  herds,"  said  the  old  bull,  "for 

9 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

the  herds  are  their  food  and  their  clothes  and  their 
housing.  It  is  the  Way  Things  Are  that  the  Buf 
falo  People  should  make  the  trails  and  men  should 
ride  in  them.  They  go  up  along  the  watersheds 
where  the  floods  cannot  mire,  where  the  snow  is 
lightest,  and  there  are  the  best  lookouts." 

"And,  also,  there  is  the  easiest  going,"  said  a  new 
voice  with  a  snarly  running  whine  in  it.  It  came 
from  a  small  gray  beast  with  pointed  ears  and  a 
bushy  tail,  and  the  smut-tipped  nose  that  all  coy 
otes  have  had  since  their  very  first  father  blacked 
himself  bringing  fire  to  Man  from  the  Burning 
Mountain.  He  had  come  up  very  softly  at  the 
heels  of  the  Buffalo  Chief,  who  wheeled  suddenly 
and  blew  steam  from  his  nostrils. 

"That,"  he  said,  "is  because  of  the  calves.  It 
is  not  because  a  buffalo  cannot  go  anywhere  it 
pleases  him;  down  ravines  where  a  horse  would 
stumble  and  up  cliffs  where  even  you,  0  Smut  Nose, 
cannot  follow." 

"True,  Great  Chief,"  said  the  Coyote,  "but  I 
seem  to  remember  trails  that  led  through  the  snow 
to  very  desirable  places." 

?  This  was  not  altogether  kind,  for  it  is  well  known 
that  it  is  only  when  snow  has  lain  long  enough  on 
the  ground  to  pack  and  have  a  hard  coating  of  ice, 
that  the  tinffaloes  dare  trust  themselves  upon  it. 
When  it  is  new-fallen  and  soft  they  flounder  about 
helplessly  until  they  die  of  starvation,  and  the 

10 


WHAT  THE  BUFFALO  CHIEF,  TOLD 

wolves  pull  them  down,  or  the  Indians  come  and 
kill  them.  But  the  old  bull  had  the  privilege  which 
belongs  to  greatness,  of  not  being  obliged  to  answer 
impertinent  things  that  were  said  to  him.  He  went 
on  just  as  if  nothing  had  interrupted,  telling  how 
the  buffalo  trails  had  found  the  mountain  passes 
and  how  they  were  rutted  deep  into  the  earth  by 
the  migrating  herds. 

"I  have  heard,"  he  said,  "that  when  the  Pale 
Faces  came  into  the  country  they  found  no  better 
roads  anywhere  than  the  buffalo  traces  — " 

"Also,"  purred  Moke-icha,  "I  have  heard  that 
they  found  trails  through  lands  where  no  buffalo 
had  been  before  them."  Moke-icha,  the  Puma, 
lay  on  a  brown  boulder  that  matched  so  perfectly 
with  her  watered  coat  that  if  it  had  not  been  for 
the  ruffling  of  the  wind  on  her  short  fur  and  the 
twitchings  of  her  tail,  the  children  might  not  have 
discovered  her.  "Look,"  she  said,  stretching  out 
one  of  her  great  pads  toward  the  south,  where  the 
trail  ran  thin  and  white  across  a  puma-colored 
land,  streaked  with  black  lava  and  purple  shadow. 
Far  at  the  other  end  it  lifted  in  red,  wall-sided 
buttes  where  the  homes  of  the  Cliff  People  stuck 
like  honeycombs  in  the  wind-scoured  hollows. 
"Now  /  recall  a  trail  in  that  country,"  said  Moke- 
icha,  "that  was  older  than  the  oldest  father's  father 
of  them  could  remember.  Four  times  a  year  the 
People  of  the  Cliffs  went  down  on  it  to  the  Sacred 

11 


,      THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

Water,  and  came  back  with  bags  of  salt  on  their 
shoulders." 

Even  as  she  spoke  they  could  see  the  people 
coming  out  of  the  Cliff  dwellings  and  the  priests 
going  into  the  kivas  preparing  for  the  journey. 

That  was  how  it  was;  when  any  animal  spoke 
of  the  country  he  knew  best,  that  was  what  the 
children  saw.  And  yet  all  the  time  there  was  the 
beginning  of  the  buffalo  trail  in  front  of  them,  and 
around  them,  drawn  there  by  that  something  of 
himself  which  every  man  puts  into  the  work  of  his 
hands,  the  listening  tribesmen.  One  of  these  spoke 
now  in  answer  to  Moke-icha. 

"Also  in  my  part  of  the  country,"  he  said,  "long 
before  there  were  Pale  Faces,  there  were  trade  trails 
and  graded  ways,  and  walled  ways  between  village 
and  village.  We  traded  for  cherts  as  far  south  as 
Little  River  in  the  Tenasas  Mountains,  and  north 
to  the  Sky-Blue  Water  for  copper  which  was 
melted  out  of  rocks,  and  there  were  workings  at 
Flint  Ridge  that  were  older  than  the  great  mound 
at  Cahokia." 

"Oh,"  cried  both  the  children  at  once,  "Mound- 
Builders!" —  and  they  stared  at  him  with  interest. 
He  was  probably  not  any  taller  than  the  other  In 
dians,  but  seemed  so  on  account  of  his  feather 
headdress  which  was  built  up  in  front  with  a  curious 
cut-out  copper  ornament.  They  thought  they  rec 
ognized  the  broad  banner  stone  of  greenish  slate 

12 


WHAT  THE  BUFFALO  CHIEF  TOLD 

which  he  carried,  the  handle  of  which  was  tasseled 
with  turkey  beards  and  tiny  tails  of  ermine.  He 
returned  the  children's  stare  in  the  friendliest  pos 
sible  fashion,  twirling  his  banner  stone  as  a  police 
man  does  his  night  stick. 

"Were  you?  Mound-Builders,  you  know?" 
questioned  Oliver. 

"You  could  call  us  that.  We  called  ourselves 
Tallegewi,  and  our  trails  were  old  before  the  buf 
falo  had  crossed  east  of  the  Missi-Sippu,  the  Father 
of  all  Rivers.  Then  the  country  was  full  of  the 
horned  people,  thick  as  flies  in  the  Moon  of  Stopped 
Waters."  As  he  spoke,  he  pointed  to  the  moose  and 
wapiti  trooping  down  the  shallow  hills  to  the  water 
ing-places.  They  moved  with  a  dancing  motion, 
and  the  multitude  of  their  horns  was  like  a  forest 
walking,  a  young  forest  in  the  spring  before  the 
leaves  are  out  and  there  is  a  clicking  of  antlered 
bough  on  bough.  "They  would  come  in  twenty 
abreast  to  the  licks  where  we  lay  in  wait  for 
them,"  said  the  Tallega.  "  They  were  the  true  trail- 
makers." 

"Then  you  must  have  forgotten  what  I  had  to 
do  with  it,"  said  a  voice  that  seemed  to  come 
from  high  up  in  the  air,  so  that  they  all  looked  up 
suddenly  and  would  have  been  frightened  at  the 
huge  bulk,  if  the  voice  coming  from  it  in  a  squeaky 
whisper  had  not  made  it  seem  ridiculous.  It  was 
the  Mastodon,  who  had  strolled  in  from  the  pre- 
13 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

historic  room,  though  it  was  a  wonder  to  the  chil 
dren  how  so  large  a  beast  could  move  so  silently. 

"Hey,"  said  a  Lenni-Lenape,  who  had  sat  com 
fortably  smoking  all  this  time,  "I've  heard  of  you 
—  there  was  an  old  Telling  of  my  father's  — 
though  I  hardly  think  I  believed  it.  What  are  you 
doing  here?" 

"I've  a  perfect  right  to  come,"  said  the  Masto 
don,  shuffling  embarrassedly  from  foot  to  foot.  "I 
was  the  first  of  my  kind  to  have  a  man  belonging 
to  me,  and  it  was  I  that  showed  him  the  trail  to 
the  sea." 

"Oh,  please,  would  you  tell  us  about  it?"  said 
Dorcas. 

The  Mastodon  rocked  to  and  fro  on  his  huge  feet, 
embarrassedly. 

"If  —  if  it  would  please  the  company  — " 

Everybody  looked  at  the  Buffalo  Chief,  for, 
after  all,  it  was  he  who  began  the  party.  The  old 
bull  pawed  dust  and  blew  steam  from  his  nostrils, 
which  was  a  perfectly  safe  thing  to  do  in  case  the 
story  did  n't  turn  out  to  his  liking. 

"Tell,  tell,"  he  agreed,  in  a  voice  like  a  man 
shouting  down  twenty  rain  barrels  at  once. 

And  looking  about  slyly  with  his  little  twinkling 
eyes  at  the  attentive  circle,  the  Mastodon  began. 


Ill 

HOW  THE  MASTODON  HAPPENED  FIRST  TO  BELONG  TO 
A  MAN,  AS  TOLD  BY  ARRUMPA 

"!N  my  time,  everything,  even  the  shape  of  the 
land  was  different.  From  Two  Rivers  it  was  all 
marsh,  marsh  and  swamp  with  squidgy  islands, 
with  swamp  and  marsh  again  till  you  came  to  hills 
and  hard  land,  beyond  which  was  the  sea.  Noth 
ing  grew  then  but  cane  and  coarse  grass,  and  the 
water  rotting  the  land  until  there  was  no  knowing 
where  it  was  safe  treading  from  year  to  year.  Not 
that  it  mattered  to  my  people.  We  kept  to  the 
hills  where  there  was  plenty  of  good  browse,  and 
left  the  swamp  to  the  Grass-Eaters  —  bunt-headed, 
woolly-haired  eaters  of  grass!" 

Up  came  Arrumpa's  trunk  to  trumpet  his  con- 

15 


,THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

tempt,  and  out  from  the  hillslope  like  a  picture  on 
a  screen  stretched  for  a  moment  the  flat  reed-bed  of 
Two  Rivers,  with  great  herds  of  silly,  elephant- 
looking  creatures  feeding  there,  with  huge  incurv 
ing  trunks  and  backs  that  sloped  absurdly  from  a 
high  fore-hump.  They  rootled  in  the  tall  grass  or 
shouldered  in  long,  snaky  lines  through  the  canes, 
their  trunks  waggling. 

"Mammoths  they  were  called,"  said  Arrumpa, 
"and  they  hid  in  the  swamp  because  their  tusks 
curved  in  and  they  were  afraid  of  Saber-Tooth, 
the  Tiger.  There  were  a  great  many  of  them,  though 
not  so  many  as  our  people,  and  also  there  was  Man. 
It  was  the  year  my  tusks  began  to  grow  that  I  first 
saw  him.  We  were  coming  up  from  the  river  to 
the  bedding-ground  and  there  was  a  thin  rim  of 
the  moon  like  a  tusk  over  the  hill's  shoulder.  I 
remember  the  damp  smell  of  the  earth  and  the 
good  smell  of  the  browse  after  the  sun  goes  down, 
and  between  them  a  thin  blue  mist  curling  with  a 
stinging  smell  that  made  prickles  come  along  the 
back  of  my  neck. 

"'What  is  that?'  I  said,  for  I  walked  yet  with 
my  mother. 

" '  It  is  the  smell  which  Man  makes  so  that  other 
people  may  know  where  he  is  and  keep  away  from 
him,'  she  said,  for  my  mother  had  never  been 
friends  with  Man  and  she  did  not  know  any  better. 

"Then  we  came  up  over  the  ridge  and  saw  them, 

16 


ARRUMPA,  THE  MASTODON 

about  a  score,  naked  and  dancing  on  the  naked 
front  of  the  hill.  They  had  a  fire  in  their  midst 
from  which  the  blue  smell  went  up,  and  as  they 
danced  they  sang  — 

*  Hail,  moon,  young  moon! 
Hail,  hail,  young  moon! 
Bring  me  something  that  I  wish, 
Hail,  moon,  hail!' 

—  catching  up  fire-sticks  in  their  hands  and  tossing 
them  toward  the  tusk  of  the  moon.  That  was  how 
they  made  the  moon  grow,  by  working  fire  into 
it,  so  my  man  told  me  afterwards.  But  it  was  not 
until  I  began  to  walk  by  myself  that  he  found  me. 
"  I  had  come  up  from  the  lower  hills  all  one  day," 
said  the  Mastodon.  "There  was  a  feel  in  the  air  as 
if  the  Great  Cold  had  breathed  into  it.  It  curdled 
blue  as  pond  water,  and  under  the  blueness  the 
forest  color  showed  like  weed  under  water.  I 
walked  by  myself  and  did  not  care  who  heard  me. 
Now  and  then  I  tore  up  a  young  tree,  for  my  tusks 
had  grown  fast  that  year  and  it  was  good  to  feel  the 
tree  tug  at  its  roots  and  struggle  with  me.  Farther 
up,  the  wind  walked  on  the  dry  leaves  with  a  sound 
like  a  thousand  wapiti  trooping  down  the  moun 
tain.  Every  little  while,  for  want  of  something  to 
do,  I  charged  it.  Then  I  carried  a  pine,  which  I 
had  torn  up,  on  my  tusks,  until  the  butt  struck  a 
boulder  which  went  down  the  hill  with  an  avalanche 
of  small  stones  that  set  all  the  echoes  shouting. 

17 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

"In  the  midst  of  it  I  lifted  up  my  voice  and  said 
that  I  was  I,  Arrumpa,  walking  by  myself,  —  and 
just  then  a  dart  struck  me.  The  men  had  come  up 
under  cover  of  the  wind  on  either  side  so  that  there 
was  nothing  for  me  to  do  but  to  move  forward, 
which  I  did,  somewhat  hurriedly. 

"  I  had  not  come  to  my  full  size  then,  but  I  was  a 
good  weight  for  my  years,"  said  Arrumpa  modestly, 
—  "a  very  good  weight,  and  it  was  my  weight  that 
saved  me,  for  the  edge  of  the  ravine  that  opened 
suddenly  in  front  of  me  crumbled,  so  that  I  came 
down  into  the  bottom  of  it  with  a  great  mass  of 
rubbish  and  broken  stone,  with  a  twisted  knee, 
and  very  much  astonished. 

"I  remember  blowing  to  get  the  blood  and  dust 
out  of  my  eyes, — there  was  a  dart  stuck  in  my  fore 
head,  —  and  seeing  the  men  come  swarming  over 
the  edge  of  the  ravine,  which  was  all  walled  in  on 
every  side,  shaking  their  spears  and  singing.  That 
was  the  way  with  men;  whatever  they  did  they 
had  to  sing  about  it.  'Ha-ahe-ah!'  they  sang  — 

'  Great  Chief,  you  're  about  to  die, 
The  Gods  have  said  it.' 

"So  they  came  capering,  but  there  was  blood 
in  my  eyes  and  my  knee  hurt  me,  so  when  one  of 
them  stuck  his  spear  almost  up  to  the  haft  in  my 
side,  I  tossed  him.  I  took  him  up  lightly  on  my 
tusks  and  he  lay  still  at  the  far  end  of  the  ravine 
where  I  had  dropped  him.  That  stopped  the  shout- 

18 


ARRUMPA,  THE  MASTODON 

ing;  but  it  broke  out  again  suddenly,  for  the  women 
had  come  down  the  wild  vines  on  the  walls,  with  their 
young  on  their  shoulders,  and  the  wife  of  the  man 
I  had  tossed  found  him.  The  noise  of  the  hunters 
was  as  nothing  to  the  noise  she  made  at  me.  Mad 
ness  overtook  her;  she  left  off  howling  over  her 
man  and  seizing  her  son  by  the  hand,  —  he  was  no 
more  than  half -grown,  not  up  to  my  shoulder,  — 
she  pushed  him  in  front  of  me.  'Take  him!  Take 
my  son,  Man-Killer!'  she  screamed.  'After  you 
have  taken  the  best  of  the  tribe,  will  you  stop  at  a 
youngling?'  Then  all  the  others  screeched  at  her 
like  gulls  frightened  from  their  rock,  and  stopped 
silent  in  great  fear  to  see  what  I  would  do  about  it. 

"I  did  not  know  what  to  do,  for  there  was  no 
way  I  could  tell  her  I  was  sorry  I  had  killed  her 
husband;  and  the  lad  stood  where  she  had  pushed 
him,  not  making  any  noise  at  all  but  a  sharp, 
steady  breathing.  So  I  took  him  up  in  my  trunk, 
for,  indeed,  I  did  not  know  what  to  do,  and  as  I 
held  him  at  the  level  of  my  eyes,  I  saw  a  strange 
thing,  —  that  the  boy  was  not  afraid.  He  was  not 
in  the  least  afraid,  but  very  angry. 

" '  I  hate  you,  Arrumpa,'  he  said,  '  because  you 
have  killed  my  father.  I  am  too  little  to  kill  you 
for  it  now,  but  when  I  am  a  man  I  shall  kill  you.' 
He  struck  me  with  his  fists.  'Put  me  down,  Man- 
Killer!' 

"  So  I  put  him  down.  What  else  was  there  to  do? 

19 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

And  there  was  a  sensation  in  my  breast,  a  sensa 
tion  as  of  bending  the  knees  and  bowing  the  neck 
-not  at  all  unpleasant —  He  stood  where  I 
placed  him,  between  my  tusks,  and  one  of  the 
hunters,  who  was  a  man  in  authority,  called  out  to 
him  to  come  away  while  they  killed  me. 

"'That  you  shall  not,'  said  my  manling,  'for  he 
has  killed  my  father,  therefore  he  is  mine  to  kill 
according  to  the  custom  of  killing.' 

"Then  the  man  was  angry. 

"'Come  away,  little  fool,'  he  said.  'He  is  our 
meat.  Have  we  not  followed  him  for  three  days 
and  trapped  him?' 

"The  boy  looked  at  him  under  his  brows,  drawn 
level. 

" '  That  was  my  father's  spear  that  stuck  in  him, 
Opata,'  he  said. 

"Now,  as  the  man  spoke,  I  began  to  see  what 
they  had  done  to  me  these  three  days,  for  there 
was  no  way  out  of  the  ravine,  and  the  women  had 
brought  their  fleshing-knives  and  baskets:  but  the 
boy  was  quicker  even  than  my  anger.  He  reached 
up  a  hand  to  either  of  my  tusks,  —  he  could  barely 
lay  hands  on  them,  —  and  his  voice  shook,  though 
I  do  not  think  it  was  with  anger.  'He  is  mine  to 
kill,'  he  said,  'according  to  custom.  He  is  my 
Arrumpa,  and  I  call  the  tribe  to  witness.  Not  one 
of  you  shall  lay  hands  on  him  until  one  of  us  has 
killed  the  other.' 

20 


ARRUMPA,  THE  MASTODON 

"Then  I  lifted  up  my  trunk  over  him,  for  my 
heart  swelled  against  the  hunters,  and  I  gave  voice 
as  a  bull  should  when  he  walks  by  himself. 

"'Arr-rr-umpl'  I  said.  And  the  people  were  all 
silent  with  astonishment. 

"Finally  the  man  who  had  first  spoken,  spoke 
again,  very  humbly,  'Great  Chief,  give  us  leave 
to  take  away  your  father.'  So  we  gave  them  leave. 
They  took  the  hurt  man  —  his  back  was  broken  — 
away  by  the  vine  ladders,  and  my  young  man  went 
and  lay  face  down  where  his  father  had  lain,  and 
shook  with  many  strange  noises  while  water  came 
out  of  his  eyes.  When  he  sat  up  at  last  and  saw 
me  blowing  dust  on  the  spear-cut  in  my  side  to  stop 
the  bleeding,  he  gathered  broad  leaves,  dipped 
them  in  pine  gum,  and  laid  them  on  the  cut.  Then 
I  blew  dust  on  these,  and  seeing  that  I  was  more 
comfortable,  Taku-Wakin  —  that  was  what  I 
learned  to  call  him  —  saluted  with  both  hands  to 
his  head,  palms  outward.  'Friend,'  he  said,  —  'for 
if  you  are  not  my  friend  I  think  I  have  not  one  other 
in  the  world,  —  besides,  I  am  too  little  to  kill  you, 
—  I  go  to  bury  my  father.' 

"  For  three  days  I  bathed  my  knee  in  the  spring, 
and  saw  faces  come  to  peer  about  the  edge  of  it 
and  heard  the  beat  of  the  village  drums.  The 
third  day  my  young  man  came,  wearing  his 
father's  collar  of  bear's  teeth,  with  neither  fire- 
stick  nor  food  nor  weapon  upon  him. 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

"'Now  I  am  all  the  man  my  mother  has/  he 
said;  'I  must  do  what  is  necessary  to  become  a 
tribesman.' 

"I  did  not  know  then  what  he  meant,  but  it 
seems  it  was  a  custom." 

All  the  Indians  in  the  group  that  had  gathered 
about  the  Mastodon,  nodded  at  this. 

"  It  was  so  in  my  time,"  said  the  Mound-Builder. 
"When  a  youth  has  come  to  the  age  where  he  is 
counted  a  man,  he  goes  apart  and  neither  eats  nor 
drinks  until,  in  the  shape  of  some  living  thing,  the 
Great  Mystery  has  revealed  itself  to  him." 

"It  was  so  he  explained  it  to  me,"  agreed  Ar- 
rumpa;  "and  for  three  days  he  ate  and  drank  no 
thing,  but  walked  by  himself  talking  to  his  god. 
Other  times  he  would  talk  to  me,  scratching  my 
hurts  and  taking  the  ticks  out  of  my  ears,  until  — 
I  do  not  know  what  it  was,  but  between  me  and 
Taku-Wakin  it  happened  that  we  understood,  each 
of  us,  what  the  other  was  thinking  in  his  heart  as 
well  as  if  we  had  words  —  Is  this  also  a  custom?" 

A  look  of  intelligence  passed  between  the  mem 
bers  of  his  audience. 

"  Once  to  every  man,"  said  an  Indian  who  leaned 
against  Moke-icha's  boulder,  "when  he  shuts  all 
thought  of  killing  out  of  his  heart  and  gives  him 
self  to  the  beast  as  to  a  brother,  knowledge  which 
is  different  from  the  knowledge  of  the  chase  comes 
to  both  of  them." 


ARRUMPA,  THE  MASTODON 

"Oh,"  said  Oliver,  "I  had  a  dog  once—"  But 
he  became  very  much  embarrassed  when  he  dis 
covered  that  he  had  drawn  the  attention  of  the 
company.  It  had  always  been  difficult  for  him  to 
explain  why  it  was  he  had  felt  so  certain  that  his 
dog  and  he  had  always  known  what  the  other  was 
thinking;  but  the  Indians  and  the  animals  under 
stood  him. 

"All  this  Taku  explained  to  me,"  went  on  Ar- 
rumpa.  "The  fourth  day,  when  Taku  fainted  for 
lack  of  food,  I  cradled  him  in  my  tusks  and  was 
greatly  troubled.  At  last  I  laid  him  on  the  fresh 
grass  by  the  spring  and  blew  water  on  him. 
Then  he  sat  up  laughing  and  spluttering,  but 
faintly. 

"'Now  am  I  twice  a  fool,'  he  said,  'not  to  know 
from  the  first  that  you  are  my  Medicine,  the  voice 
of  the  Mystery.' 

"Then  he  shouted  for  his  mother,  who  came 
down  from  the  top  of  the  ravine,  very  timidly, 
and  fed  him. 

"After  that  he  would  come  to  me  every  day, 
sometimes  with  a  bough  of  wild  apples  or  a  basket 
of  acorns,  and  I  would  set  him  on  my  neck  so  he 
could  scratch  between  my  ears  and  tell  me  all  his 
troubles.  His  father,  he  said,  had  been  a  strong 
man  who  put  himself  at  the  head  of  the  five  chiefs 
of  the  tribe  and  persuaded  them  to  leave  off  fight 
ing  one  another  and  band  together  against  the 

23 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

enemy  tribes.  Opata,  the  man  who  had  wished  to 
kill  me,  was  the  man  likeliest  to  be  made  High 
Chief  in  his  father's  place. 

" '  And  then  my  bad  days  will  begin,'  said  Taku- 
Wakin,  'for  he  hates  me  for  my  father's  sake,  and 
also  a  little  for  yours,  Old  Two-Tails,  and  he  will 
persuade  the  Council  to  give  my  mother  to  another 
man  and  I  shall  be  made  subject  to  him.  Worse,' 
he  said,  —  'the  Great  Plan  of  my  father  will  come 
to  nothing.' 

"He  was  always  talking1  about  this  Great  Plan 
and  fretting  over  it,  but  I  was  too  new  to  the  cus 
toms  of  men  to  ask  what  he  meant  by  it. 

" '  If  I  had  but  a  Sign,'  he  said,  'then  they  would 
give  me  my  father's  place  in  the  Council .  .  .  but 
I  am  too  little,  and  I  have  not  yet  killed  any 
thing  worth  mentioning.' 

"So  he  would  sit  on  my  neck  and  drum  with  his 
heels  while  he  thought,  and  there  did  not  seem  to 
be  anything  I  could  do  about  it.  By  this  time  my 
knee  was  quite  well.  I  had  eaten  all  the  brush  in  the 
ravine  and  was  beginning  to  be  lonely.  Taku  wasn't 
able  to  visit  me  so  often,  for  he  had  his  mother  and 
young  brothers  to  kill  for. 

"So  one  night  when  the  moon  came  walking  red 
on  the  trail  of  the  day,  far  down  by  Two  Rivers 
I  heard  some  of  my  friends  trumpeting;  therefore 
I  pulled  down  young  trees  along  the  sides  of  the 
ravine,  with  great  lumps  of  earth,  and  battered 


ARRUMPA,  THE  MASTODON 

the  rotten  cliffs  until  they  crumbled  in  a  heap  by 
which  I  scrambled  up  again. 

"I  must  have  traveled  a  quarter  of  the  moon's 
course  before  I  heard  the  patter  of  bare  feet  in  the 
trail  and  a  voice  calling:  — 

"'Up!  Take  me  up,  Arrumpa!' 

"So  I  took  him  up,  quite  spent  with  running, 
and  yet  not  so  worn  out  but  that  he  could  smack  me 
soundly  between  the  eyes,  as  no  doubt  I  deserved. 

'"Beast  of  a  bad  heart,'  he  said,  'did  I  not  tell 
you  that  to-morrow  the  moon  is  full  and  the  Five 
Chiefs  hold  Council?'  So  he  had,  but  my  thick 
wits  had  made  nothing  of  it.  'If  you  leave  me 
this  night,'  said  Taku,  'then  they  will  say  that  my 
Medicine  has  left  me  and  my  father's  place  will  be 
given  to  Opata.' 

"'Little  Chief,'  I  said,  'I  did  not  know  that  you 
had  need  of  me,  but  it  came  into  my  head  that  I 
also  had  need  of  my  own  people.  Besides,  the 
brush  is  eaten.' 

"'True,  true!'  he  said,  and  drummed  on  my 
forehead.  'Take  me  home,'  he  said  at  last,  'for  I 
have  followed  you  half  the  night,  and  I  must  not 
seem  wearied  at  the  Council.' 

"So  I  took  him  back  as  far  as  the  Arch  Rock 
which  springs  high  over  the  trail  by  which  the  men 
of  Taku's  village  went  out  to  the  hunting.  There 
was  a  cleft  under  the  wing  of  the  Arch,  close  to  the 
cliff,  and  every  man  going  out  to  the  hunt  threw  a 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

dart  at  it,  as  an  omen.  If  it  stuck,  the  omen  was 
good,  but  if  the  point  of  the  dart  broke  against  the 
face  of  the  cliff  and  fell  back,  the  hunter  returned 
to  his  hut,  and  if  he  hunted  at  all  that  day,  he 
went  out  in  another  direction.  We  could  see  the 
shafts  of  the  darts  fast  in  the  cleft,  bristling  in  the 
moonlight. 

" '  Wait  here,  under  the  Arch,'  said  Taku-Wakin, 
'till  I  see  if  the  arrow  of  my  thought  finds  a  cleft  to 
stick  into.' 

"  So  we  waited,  watching  the  white,  webby  moons 
of  the  spiders,  wet  in  the  grass,  and  the  man  huts 
sleeping  on  the  hill,  and  felt  the  Dawn's  breath 
pricking  the  skin  of  our  shoulders.  The  huts  were 
mere  heaps  of  brush  like  rats'  nests. 

'"Shall  I  walk  on  the  huts  for  a  sign,  Little 
Chief? 'said  I. 

'"Not  that,  Old  Hilltop,'  he  laughed;  'there  are 
people  under  the  huts,  and  what  good  is  a  Sign 
without  people?' 

"Then  he  told  me  how  his  father  had  become 
great  by  thinking,  not  for  his  own  clan  alone,  but 
for  all  the  people  —  it  was  because  of  the  long  reach 
of  his  power  that  they  called  him  Long-Hand.  Now 
that  he  was  gone  there  would  be  nothing  but  quar 
rels  and  petty  jealousies.  '  They  will  hunt  the  same 
grounds  twice  over,'  said  Taku-Wakin  ;  'they  will 
kill  one  another  when  they  should  be  killing  their  en 
emies,  and  in  the  end  the  Great  Cold  will  get  them.' 


ARRUMPA,  THE  MASTODON 

"Every  year  the  Great  Cold  crept  nearer.  It 
came  like  a  strong  arm  and  pressed  the  people  west 
and  south  so  that  the  tribes  bore  hard  on  one  an 
other. 

"'Since  old  time,'  said  Taku-Wakin,  'my  people 
have  been  sea  people.  But  the  People  of  the  Great 
Cold  came  down  along  the  ice-run  and  cut  them 
off  from  it.  My  father  had  a  plan  to  get  to  the  sea, 
and  a  Talking  Stick  which  he  was  teaching  me  to 
understand,  but  I  cannot  find  it  in  any  of  the  places 
where  he  used  to  hide  it.  If  I  had  the  Stick  I  think 
they  would  make  me  chief  in  my  father's  place. 
But  if  Opata  is  made  chief,  then  I  must  give  it  to 
him  if  I  find  it,  and  Opata  will  have  all  the  glory. 
If  I  had  but  a  Sign  to  keep  them  from  making 
Opata  chief  .  .  .'  So  he  drummed  on  my  head  with 
his  heels  while  I  leaned  against  the  Arch  Rock  — 
oh,  yes,  I  can  sleep  very  comfortably,  standing  — 
and  the  moon  slid  down  the  hill  until  it  shone  clear 
under  the  rock  and  touched  the  feathered  butts  of 
the  arrows.  Then  Taku  woke  me. 

"'Up,  put  me  up,  Arrumpa!  For  now  I  have 
thought  of  a  Sign  that  even  the  Five  Chiefs  will 
have  respect  for.' 

"  So  I  put  him  up  until  his  foot  caught  in  the  cleft 
of  the  rock  and  he  pried  out  five  of  the  arrows. 

"'Arrows  of  the  Five  Chiefs,'  he  said,  —  'that 
the  chiefs  gave  to  the  gods  to  keep,  and  the  gods 
have  given  to  me  again!' 

27 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

"That  was  the  way  always  with  Taku-Wakin, 
he  kept  all  the  god  customs  of  the  people,  but  he 
never  doubted,  when  he  had  found  what  he  wanted 
to  do,  that  the  gods  would  be  on  his  side.  He  showed 
me  how  every  arrow  was  a  little  different  from  the 
others  in  the  way  the  blood  drain  was  cut  or  the 
shaft  feathered. 

'"No  fear,'  he  said.  'Every  man  will  know  his 
own  when  I  come  to  the  Council.' 

"He  hugged  the  arrows  to  his  breast  and  laughed 
over  them,  so  I  hugged  him  with  my  trunk,  and 
we  agreed  that  once  in  every  full  moon  I  was  to 
come  to  Burnt  Woods,  and  wait  until  he  called  me 
with  something  that  he  took  from  his  girdle  and 
twirled  on  a  thong.  I  do  not  know  what  it  was 
called,  but  it  had  a  voice  like  young  thunder." 

"Like  this?"  The  Mound-Builder  cut  the  air 
with  an  oddly  shaped  bit  of  wood  swung  on  an 
arm's-length  of  string,  once  lightly,  like  a  covey  of 
quail  rising,  and  then  loud  like  a  wind  in  the  full- 
branched  forest. 

"Just  such  another.  Thrice  he  swung  it  so  that 
I  might  not  mistake  the  sound,  and  that  was  the 
last  I  saw  of  him,  hugging  his  five  arrows,  with 
the  moon  gone  pale  like  a  meal-cake,  and  the  tame 
wolves  that  skulk  between  the  huts  for  scraps, 
slinking  off  as  he  spoke  to  them." 

"  And  did  they — the  Five  Chiefs,  I  mean  —  have 
respect  for  his  arrows?"  Dorcas  Jane  wondered. 

28 


ARRUMPA,  THE  MASTODON 

"So  he  told  me.  They  came  from  all  the  nine 
villages  and  sat  in  a  council  ring,  each  with  the 
elders  of  his  village  behind  him,  and  in  front  his 
favorite  weapon,  tied  with  eagle  feathers  for  ene 
mies  he  had  slain,  and  red  marks  for  battles,  and 
other  signs  and  trophies.  At  the  head  of  the  circle 
there  was  the  spear  of  Long-Hand,  and  a  place  left 
for  the  one  who  should  be  elected  to  sit  in  it.  But 
before  the  Council  had  time  to  begin,  came  Taku- 
Wakin  with  his  arms  folded  —  though  he  told  me 
it  was  to  hide  how  his  heart  jumped  in  his  bosom 
—  and  took  his  father's  seat.  Around  the  ring  of 
the  chiefs  and  elders  ran  a  growl  like  the  circling  of 
thunder  in  sultry  weather,  and  immediately  it  was 
turned  into  coughing;  every  man  trying  to  eat  his 
own  exclamation,  for,  as  he  sat,  Taku  laid  out,  hi 
place  of  a  trophy,  the  five  arrows. 

"'Do  we  sit  at  a  game  of  knuckle-bone?'  said 
Opata  at  last,  'or  is  this  a  Council  of  the  Elders?' 

'"Game  or  Council,'  said  Taku-Wakin,  'I  sit  in 
my  father's  place  until  I  have  a  Sign  from  him 
whom  he  will  have  to  sit  there." 

"But  I  don't  understand  — "  began  Oliver,  look 
ing  about  the  circle  of  listening  Indians.  "  His  fa 
ther  was  dead,  was  n't  he?" 

"What  is  'dead'?"  said  the  Lenni-Lenape; 
"  Indians  do  not  know.  Our  friends  go  out  of  their 
bodies;  where?  Into  another  —  or  into  a  beast? 
When  I  was  still  strapped  in  my  basket  my  father 

29 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

set  me  on  a  bear  that  he  had  killed  and  prayed  that 
the  bear's  cunning  and  strength  should  pass  into 
me.  Taku-Wakin's  people  thought  that  the  heart  of 
Long-Hand  might  have  gone  into  the  Mastodon." 

"Why  not?"  agreed  Arrumpa  gravely.  "I  re 
member  that  Taku  would  call  me  Father  at  times, 
and  —  if  he  was  very  fond  of  me  —  Grandfather. 
But  all  he  wanted  at  that  time  was  to  keep  Opata 
from  being  elected  in  his  father's  place,  and  Opata, 
who  understood  this  perfectly,  was  very  angry. 

"It  is  the  custom,'  he  said,  'when  a  chief  sleeps 
in  the  High  Places,'  —  he  meant  the  hilltops  where 
they  left  their  dead  on  poles  or  tied  to  the  tree 
branches,  —  'that  we  elect  another  to  his  place  in 
the  Council.' 

"'Also  it  is  a  custom,'  said  Taku-Wakin,  'to 
bring  the  token  of  his  great  exploit  into  Council 
and  quicken  the  heart  by  hearing  of  it.  You  have 
heard,  0  Chiefs,'  he  said,  'that  my  father  had  a 
plan  for  the  good  of  the  people,  and  it  has  come 
to  me  in  my  heart  that  that  plan  was  stronger  in 
him  than  death.  For  he  was  a  man  who  finished 
what  he  had  begun,  and  it  may  be  that  he  is  long- 
handed  enough  to  reach  back  from  the  place  where 
he  has  gone.  And  this  is  a  Sign  to  me,  that  he  has 
taken  his  cut  stick,  which  had  the  secret  of  his 
plan,  with  him.' 

"Taku-Wakin  fiddled  with  the  arrows,  laying 
them  straight,  hardly  daring  to  look  up  at  Opata, 

30 


ARRUMPA,  THE  MASTODON 

for  if  the  chief  had  his  father's  cut  stick,  now  would 
be  the  time  that  he  would  show  it.  Out  of  the  tail 
of  his  eye  he  could  see  that  the  rest  of  the  Council 
were  startled.  That  was  the  way  with  men.  Me 
they  would  trap,  and  take  the  skin  of  Saber-Tooth 
to  wrap  their  cubs  in,  but  at  the  hint  of  a  Sign,  or 
an  old  custom  slighted,  they  would  grow  suddenly 
afraid.  Then  Taku  looked  up  and  saw  Opata  strok 
ing  his  face  with  his  hand  to  hide  what  he  was 
thinking.  He  was  no  fool,  and  he  saw  that  if  the 
election  was  pressed,  Taku-Wakin,  boy  as  he  was, 
would  sit  in  his  father's  place  because  of  the  five 
arrows.  Taku-Wakin  stood  up  and  stretched  out 
his  hand  to  the  Council. 

"'Is  it  agreed,  0  Chiefs,  that  you  keep  my 
father's  place  until  there  is  a  Sign?'  —  and  a 
deep  Hu-huh  ran  all  about  the  circle.  It  was  sign 
enough  for  them  that  the  son  of  Long-Hand  played 
unhurt  with  arrows  that  had  been  given  to  the 
gods.  Taku  stretched  his  hand  to  Opata,  'Is  it 
agreed,  0  Chief?' 

"'So  long  as  the  tribe  comes  to  no  fyarm,'  said 
Opata,  making  the  best  of  a  bad  business.  'It 
shall  be  kept  until  Long-Hand  or  his  Talking  Rod 
comes  back  to  us.' 

"'And,'  said  Taku-Wakin  to  me,  'whether  Opata 
or  I  first  sits  in  it,  depends  on  which  one  of  us  can 
first  produce  a  Sign.' 


IV 

THE  SECOND  PART   OF   THE   MASTODON  STORY  CON 
CERNING  THE  TRAIL  TO  THE  SEA  AND  THE  TALKING 
STICK  OF  TAKU-WAKIN 

"!T  was  the  Talking  Stick  of  his  father  that  Taku- 
Wakin  wanted,"  said  Arrumpa.  "He  still  thought 
Opata  might  have  it,  for  every  now  and  then 
Taku  would  catch  him  coming  back  with  marsh 
mud  on  his  moccasins.  That  was  how  I  began  to 
understand  that  the  Great  Plan  was  really  a  plan 
to  find  a  way  through  the  marsh  to  the  sea  on  the 
other  side  of  it. 

"'Opata  has  the  Stick,'  said  Taku,  '  but  it  will 
not  talk  to  him;  therefore  he  goes,  as  my  father 
did,  when  the  waters  are  low  and  the  hummocks 
of  hard  ground  stand  up,  to  find  a  safe  way  for 
the  tribe  to  follow.  But  my  father  had  worked  as 

32 


THE  TRAIL  TO  THE  SEA1 

far  as  the  Grass  Flats  and  beyond  them,  to  a  place 
of  islands.' 

" '  Squidgy  Islands,'  I  told  him.  '  The  Grass-Eaters 
go  there  to  drop  their  calves  every  season. '  Taku 
kicked  me  behind  the  ears. 

"'Said  I  not  you  were  a  beast  of  a  bad  heart!' 
he  scolded.  But  how  should  I  know  he  would  care 
to  hear  about  a  lot  of  silly  Mammoths.  'Also,'  he 
said,  'you  are  my  Medicine.  You  shall  find  me  the 
trail  of  the  Talking  Stick,  and  I,  Taku,  son  of 
Long-Hand,  shall  lead  the  people.' 

'"In  six  moons,'  I  told  him,  'the  Grass-Eaters 
go  to  the  Islands  to  calve — ' 

"'In  which  time,'  said  Taku,  'the  chiefs  will 
have  quarreled  six  times,  and  Opata  will  have 
eaten  me.  Drive  them,  Arrumpa,  drive  them!' 

"Umph,  uh-ump!"  chuckled  the  old  beast  rem- 
iniscently.  "We  drove;  we  drove.  What  else  was 
there  to  do?  Taku-Wakin  was  my  man.  Be 
sides,  it  was  great  fun.  One-Tusk  helped  me. 
He  was  one  of  our  bachelor  herd  who  had  lost 
a  tusk  in  his  first  fight,  which  turned  out  greatly 
to  his  advantage.  He  would  come  sidling  up  to  a 
refractory  young  cow  with  his  eyes  twinkling,  and 
before  anybody  suspected  he  could  give  such  a  prod 
with  his  one  tusk  as  sent  her  squealing.  .  .  .  But 
that  came  afterward.  The  Mammoth  herd  that 
fed  on  our  edge  of  the  Great  Swamp  was  led  by  a 
wrinkled  old  cow,  wise  beyond  belief.  Scrag  we 

33 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

called  her.  She  would  take  the  herd  in  to  the 
bedding-ground  by  the  river,  to  a  landing-point  on 
the  opposite  side,  never  twice  the  same,  and  drift 
noiselessly  through  the  canebrake,  choosing  blowy 
hours  when  the  swish  of  cane  over  woolly  backs 
was  like  the  run  of  the  wind.  Days  when  the  marsh 
would  be  full  of  tapirs  wallowing  and  wild  pig 
rootling  and  fighting,  there  might  be  hundreds  feed 
ing  within  sound  of  you  and  not  a  hint  of  it  except 
the  occasional  toot-toot  of  some  silly  cow  calling  for 
Scrag,  or  a  young  bull  blowing  water. 

"They  bedded  at  the  Grass  Flats,  but  until 
Scrag  herself  had  a  mind  to  take  the  trail  to  the 
Squidgy  Islands,  there  was  nobody  but  Saber- 
Tooth  could  persuade  her. 

" 'Then  Saber-Tooth  shall  help  us,'  said  my  man. 

"Not  for  nothing  was  he  called  Taku-Wakin, 
which  means  'The  Wonderful.'  He  brought  a  tiger 
cub's  skin  of  his  father's  killing,  dried  stiff  and 
sewed  up  with  small  stones  inside  it.  At  one  end 
there  was  a  thong  with  a  loop  in  it,  and  it  smelled 
of  tiger. |I  could  see  the  tip  of  One-Tusk's  trunk  go 
up  with  a  start  every  time  he  winded  it.  There 
was  a  curled  moon  high  up  in  the  air  like  a  feather, 
and  a  moon-white  tusk  glinting  here  and  there, 
where  the  herds  drifted  across  the  flats.  There 
was  no  trouble  about  our  going  among  them  so 
long  as  Scrag  did  not  wind  us.  They  claimed  to  be 
kin  to  us,  and  they  cared  nothing  for  Man  even 

34 


THE  TRAIL  TO  THE  SEA 

when  they  smelled  him.  We  came  sidling  up  to 
a  nervous  young  cow,  and  Taku  dropped  from  my 
neck  long  enough  to  slip  the  thong  over  a  hind 
foot  as  she  lifted  it.  The  thong  was  wet  at  first 
and  scarcely  touched  her.  Presently  it  tightened. 
Then  the  cow  shook  her  foot  to  free  it  and  the  skin 
rattled.  She  squealed  nervously  and  started  out 
to  find  Scrag,  who  was  feeding  on  the  far  side  of  the 
hummock,  and  at  every  step  the  tiger-skin  rattled 
and  bounced  against  her.  Eyes  winked  red  with 
alarm  and  trunks  came  lifting  out  of  the  tall  grass 
like  serpents.  One-Tusk  moved  silently,  prod-prod 
ding  ;  we  could  hear  the  click  of  ivory  and  the  bunting 
of  shoulder  against  shoulder.  Then  some  silly  cow 
had  a  whiff  of  the  skin  that  bounded  along  in 
their  tracks  like  a  cat,  and  raised  the  cry  of  'Tiger! 
Tiger!'  Far  on  the  side  from  us,  in  the  direction 
of  the  Squidgy  Islands,  Scrag  trumpeted,  followed 
by  frantic  splashing  as  the  frightened  herd  plunged 
into  the  reed-beds.  Taku  slipped  from  my  neck, 
shaking  with  laughter. 

"'Follow,  follow,'  he  said;  'I  go  to  bring  up  the 
people.' 

"It  was  two  days  before  Scrag  stopped'  running. 

"From  the  Grass  Flats  on  to  the  Islands  it  was 
all  one  reed-bed  where  the  water  gathered  into 
runnels  between  hummocks  of  rotten  rushes, 
where  no  trail  would  lie  and  any  false  step  might 
plunge  you  into  black  bog  to  the  shoulder.  About 

35 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

halfway  we  found  the  tiger-skin  tramped  into  the 
mire,  but  as  soon  as  we  struck  the  Islands  I  turned 
back,  for  I  was  in  need  of  good  oak  browse,  and  I 
wished  to  find  out  what  had  become  of  Taku- 
Wakin.  It  was  not  until  one  evening  when  I  had 
come  well  up  into  the  lulls  for  a  taste  of  fir,  that  I 
saw  him,  black  against  the  sun  with  the  tribe  be 
hind  him.  The  Five  Chiefs  walked  each  in  front 
of  his  own  village,  except  that  Taku-Wakin's  own 
walked  after  Opata,  and  there  were  two  of  the 
Turtle  clan,  each  with  his  own  head  man,  and  two 
under  Apunkewis.  Before  all  walked  Taku-Wakin 
holding  a  peeled  stick  upright  and  seeing  the  end 
of  the  trail,  but  not  what  lay  close  in  front  of  him. 
He  did  not  even  see  me  as  I  slipped  around  the 
procession  and  left  a  wet  trail  for  him  to  follow. 

"That  was  how  we  crossed  to  the  Islands,  village 
by  village,  with  Taku-Wakin  close  on  my  trail, 
which  was  the  trail  of  the  Grass-Eaters.  They 
swam  the  sloughs  with  their  children  on  their 
shoulders,  and  made  rafts  of  reeds  to  push  their 
food  bundles  over.  By  night  they  camped  on  the 
hummocks  and  built  fires  that  burned  for  days  in 
the  thick  litter  of  reeds.  Red  reflections  glanced 
like  fishes  along  the  water.  Then  there  would  be 
the  drums  and  the  —  the  thunder-twirler —  " 

"  But  what  kept  him  so  long  and  how  did  he  per 
suade  them?  "  Dorcas  Jane  squirmed  with  curiosity. 

"He'd  been  a  long  time  working  out  the  trail 

36 


THE  TRAIL  TO  THE  SEA 

through  the  canebrake,"  said  Arrumpa,  "making 
a  Talking  Stick  as  his  father  had  taught  him;  one 
ring  for  a  day's  journey,  one  straight  mark  for  so 
many  man's  paces;  notches  for  turns.  When  he 
could  not  remember  his  father's  marks  he  made  up 
others.  When  he  came  to  his  village  again  he  found 
they  had  all  gone  over  to  Opata's.  Apunkewis,  who 
had  the  two  villages  under  Black  Rock  and  was  a 
friend  of  Long-Hand,  told  him  that  there  would  be 
a  Sign. 

"'There  will,'  said  Taku-Wakin,  'but  I  shall 
bring  it.'  He  knew  that  Opata  meant  mischief,  but 
he  could  not  guess  what.  All  the  way  to  Opata's 
his  thought  went  round  and  round  like  a  fire-stick 
in  the  hearth-hole.  When  he  heard  the  drums  he 
flared  up  like  a  spark  in  the  tinder.  Earlier  in  the 
evening  there  had  been  a  Big  Eating  at  Opata's, 
and  now  the  men  were  dancing. 

"'Eyah,  eyah!'  they  sang. 

"  Taku-Wakin  whirled  like  a  spark  into  the  ring. 
6  Eyah,  eyah! '  he  shouted,  — 

*  Great  are  the  people 
They  have  found  a  sign, 
The  sign  of  the  Talking  Rod! 
Eyah!  My  people!' 

"  He  planted  it  full  in  the  firelight  where  it  rocked 
and  beckoned.  'Eyah,  the  rod  is  calling,'  he  sang. 

"The  moment  he  had  sight  of  Opata's  face  he 
knew  that  whatever  the  chief  had  meant  to  do,  he 

37 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

did  not  have  his  father's  Stick.  Taku  caught  up  his 
own  and  twirled  it,  and  finally  he  hid  it  under  his 
coat,  for  if  any  one  had  handled  it  he  could  have 
seen  that  this  was  not  the  Stick  of  Long-Hand, 
but  fresh-peeled  that  season.  But  because  Opata 
wanted  the  Stick  of  Long-Hand,  he  thought  any 
stick  of  Taku's  must  be  the  one  he  wanted.  And 
what  Opata  thought,  the  rest  of  the  tribe  thought 
also.  So  they -rose  up  by  clans  and  villages  and  fol 
lowed  after  the  Sign.  That  was  how  we  came  to  the 
Squidgy  Islands.  There  were  willows  there  and 
young  alders  and  bare  knuckles  of  rock  holding 
up  the  land. 

"Beyond  that  the  Swamp  began;  the  water 
gathered  itself  into  bayous  that  went  slinking, 
wolflike,  between  the  trees,  or  rose  like  a  wolf 
through  the  earth  and  stole  it  from  under  your  very 
foot.  It  doubled  into  black  lagoons  to  doze,  and 
young  snakes  coiled  on  the  lily-pads,  so  that  when 
the  sun  warmed  them  you  could  hear  the  shir 
shisi-ss  like  a  wind  rising.  Also  by  night  there 
would  be  greenish  lights  that  followed  the  trails  for 
a  while  and  went  out  suddenly  in  whistling  noises. 
Now  and  then  in  broad  day  the  Swamp  would  fall 
asleep.  There  would  be  the  plop  of  turtles  falling 
into  the  creek  and  the  slither  of  alligators  in  the 
mud,  and  all  of  a  suddeji  not  a  ripple  would  start, 
and  between  the  clacking  of  one  reed  and  another 
would  come  the  soundless  lift  and  stir  of  the  Swamp 

38 


THE  TRAIL  TO  THE  SEA 

snoring.  Then  the  hair  on  your  neck  would  rise, 
and  some  man  caught  walking  alone  in  it  would 
go  screaming  mad  with  fear. 

"Six  moons  we  had  to  stay  in  that  place,  for 
Scrag  had  hidden  the  herd  so  cleverly  that  it  was  not 
until  the  week-old  calves  began  to  squeak  for  their 
mothers  that  we  found  them.  And  from  the  time 
they  were  able  to  run  under  their  mother's  bodies, 
One-Tusk  and  I  kept  watch  and  watch  to  see  that 
they  did  not  break  back  to  the  Squidgy  Islands.  It 
was  necessary  for  Taku-Wakin's  plan  that  they 
should  go  out  on  the  other  side  where  there  was  good 
land  between  the  Swamp  and  the  Sea,  not  claimed 
by  the  Kooskooski.  We  learned  to  eat  grass  that 
summer  and  squushy  reeds  with  no  strength  in 
them  —  did  I  say  that  all  the  Grass-Eaters  were 
pot-bellied?  Also  I  jhad  to,  reason  with  One-Tusk, 
who  had  not  loved  a  man,  and  found  that  the 
Swamp  bored  him.  By  this  time,  too,  Scrag  knew 
what  we  were  after ;  she  covered  her  trail  and  crossed 
it  as  many  times  as  a  rabbit.  Then,  just  as  we 
thought  we  had  it,  the  wolf  water  came  and  gnawed 
the  trail  in  two. 

"Taku-Wakin  would  come  to  me  by  the  Black 
Lagoon  and  tell  me  how  Opata  worked  to  make  him 
self  chief  of  the  nine  villages.  He  had  his  own  and 
Taku-Wakin's,  for  Taku  had  never  dared  to  ask 
it  back  again,  and  the  chief  of  the  Turtle  clan  was 
Opata's  man. 

39 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

" '  He  tells  the  people  that  my  Stick  will  not  talk 
to  me  any  more.  But  how  can  it  talk,  Arrumpa, 
when  you  have  nothing  to  tell  it?' 

"'Patience,'  I  said.  'If  we  press  the  cows  too 
hard  they  will  break  back  the  way  they  have  come, 
and  that  will  be  worse  than  waiting.' 

"'And  if  I  do  not  get  them  forward  soon,'  said 
Taku-Wakin, '  the  people  will  break  back,  and  my 
father  will  be  proved  a  fool.  I  am  too  little  for  this 
thing,  Grandfather,'  he  would  say,  leaning  against 
my  trunk,  and  I  would  take  him  up  and  comfort 
him. 

"As  for  Opata,  I  used  to  see  him  sometimes, 
dancing  alone  to  increase  his  magic  power,  —  I 
speak  but  as  the  people  of  Taku-Wakin  spoke,  — 
and  once  at  the  edge  of  the  lagoon,  catching 
snakes.  Opata  had  made  a  noose  of  hair  at  the  end 
of  a  peeled  switch,  and  he  would  snare  them  as 
they  darted  like  streaks  through  the  water.  I 
saw  him  cast  away  some  that  he  caught,  and 
others  he  dropped  into  a  wicker  basket,  one  with 
a  narrow  neck  such  as  women  used  for  water.  How 
was  I  to  guess  what  he  wanted  with  them?  But 
the  man  smelled  of  mischief.  It  lay  in  the  thick 
air  like  the  smell  of  the  lagoons;  by  night  you  could 
hear  it  throbbing  with  the  drums  that  scared  away 
the  wandering  lights  from  the  nine  villages. 

"Scrag  was  beginning  to  get  the  cows  together 
again;  but  by  that  time  the  people  had  made  up 

40 


THE  TRAIL  TO  THE  SEA 

their  minds  to  stay  where  they  were.  They  built 
themselves  huts  on  platforms  above  the  water  and 
caught  turtles  in  the  bayous. 

" '  Opata  has  called  a  Council,'  Taku  told  me,  'to 
say  that  I  must  make  my  Stick  talk,  or  they  will 
know  me  for  a  deceiver,  a  maker  of  short  life  for 
them.' 

"'Short  life  to  him,'  I  said.  'In  three  nights  or 
four,  the  Grass-Eaters  will  be  moving.' 

" '  And  my  people  are  fast  in  the  mud,'  said  Taku- 
Wakin.  'I  am  a  mud-head  myself  to  think  a 
crooked  rod  could  save  them.'  He  took  it  from  his 
girdle  warped  by  the  wet  and  the  warmth  of  his 
body.  'My  heart  is  sick,  Arrumpa,  and  Opata 
makes  them  a  better  chief  than  I,  for  I  have  only 
tried  to  find  them  their  sea  again.  But  Opata  un 
derstands  them.  This  is  a  foolish  tale  that  will 
never  be  finished.' 

"  He  loosed  the  stick  from  his  hand  over  the  black 
water  like  a  boy  skipping  stones,  but  —  this  is  a 
marvel  —  it  turned  as  it  flew  and  came  back  to 
Taku-Wakin  so  that  he  had  to  take  it  in  his  hand 
or  it  would  have  struck  him.  He  stood  looking  at 
it  astonished,  while  the  moon  came  up  and  made 
dart-shaped  ripples  of  light  behind  the  swimming 
snakes  in  the  black  water.  For  he  saw  that  if  the 
Stick  would  not  leave  him,  neither  could  he  for 
sake  —  Is  this  also  known  to  you?  "  For  he  saw  the 
children  smiling. 

41 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

The  Indian  who  leaned  against  Moke-icha's 
boulder  drew  a  crooked  stick,  shaped  something 
like  an  elbow,  from  under  his  blanket.  Twice  he 
tossed  it  lightly  and  twice  it  flew  over  the  heads 
of  the  circle  and  back  like  a  homing  pigeon  as  he 
lightly  caught  it. 

"Boomerangs!"  cried  the  children,  delighted. 

"We  called  it  the  Stick-which-kills-flying,"  said 
the  Indian,  and  hid  it  again  under  his  blanket. 

"Taku-Wakin  thought  it  Magic  Medicine," 
said  the  Mastodon.  "  It  was  a  Sign  to  him.  Two  or 
three  times  he  threw  the  stick  and  always  it  came 
back  to  him.  He  was  very  quiet,  considering  what 
it  might  mean,  as  I  took  him  back  between  the 
trees  that  stood  knee-deep  in  the  smelly  water. 
We  saw  the  huts  at  last,  built  about  in  a  circle 
and  the  sacred  fire  winking  in  the  middle.  I  re 
membered  the  time  I  had  watched  with  Taku 
under  the  Arch  Rock. 

'"Give  me  leave,'  I  said,  'to  walk  among  the 
huts,  and  see  what  will  come  of  it.' 

"Taku-Wakin  slapped  my  trunk. 

"'Now  by  the  oath  of  my  people,  you  shall 
walk,'  he  said.  '  If  the  herds  begin  to  move,  and  if 
no  hurt  comes  to  anybody  by  it,  you  shall  walk;  for 
as  long  as  they  are  comfortable,  even  though  the 
Rod  should  speak,  they  would  not  listen.' 

"The  very  next  night  Scrag  began  to  move  her 
cows  out  toward  the  hard  land,  and  when  I  had 

42 


THE  TRAIL  TO  THE  SEA 

marked  her  trail  for  five  man  journeys,  I  came  back 
to  look  for  Taku-Wakin.  There  was  a  great  noise  of 
singing  a  little  back  from  the  huts  at  the  Dancing- 
Place,  and  all  the  drums  going,  and  the  smoke  that 
drifted  along  the  trails  had  the  smell  of  a  Big 
Eating.  I  stole  up  in  the  dark  till  I  could  look  over 
the  heads  of  the  villagers  squatted  about  the  fire. 
Opata  was  making  a  speech  to  them.  He  was  work 
ing  himself  into  a  rage  over  the  wickedness  of 
Taku-Wakin.  He  would  strike  the  earth  with  his 
stone-headed  spear  as  he  talked,  and  the  tribe  would 
yelp  after  him  like  wolves  closing  in  on  a  buck.  If 
the  Talking  Stick  which  had  led  them  there  was  not 
a  liar,  let  it  talk  again  and  show  them  the  way  to 
their  sea.  Let  it  talk!  And  at  last,  when  they  had 
screeched  themselves  hoarse,  they  were  quiet  long 
enough  to  hear  it. 

"Little  and  young,  Taku-Wakin  looked,  standing 
up  with  his  Stick  in  his  hand,  and  the  words  com 
ing  slowly  as  if  he  waited  for  them  to  reach  him  from 
far  off.  The  Stick  was  no  liar,  he  said ;  it  was  he  who 
had  lied  to  them;  he  had  let  them  think  that  this 
was  his  father's  Stick.  It  was  a  new  stick  much 
more  powerful,  as  he  would  yet  show  them.  And 
who  was  he  to  make  it  talk  when  it  would  not?  Yet 
it  would  talk  soon  .  .  .  very  soon  ...  he  had  heard 
it  whispering.  .  .  .  Let  them  not  vex  the  Stick  lest 
it  speak  strange  and  unthought-of  things.  .  .  . 

"Oh,  but  he  was  well  called  'The  Wonderful.' 

43 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

I  could  see  the  heads  of  the  tribesmen  lifting  like 
wolves  taking  a  new  scent,  and  mothers  tighten 
their  clutch  on  their  children.  Also  I  saw  Opata. 
Him  I  watched,  for  he  smelt  of  mischief.  His  water- 
basket  was  beside  him,  and  as  the  people  turned 
from  baiting  Taku-Wakin  to  believing  him,  I  saw 
Opata  push  the  bottle  secretly  with  his  spear-butt. 
It  rolled  into  the  cleared  space  toward  Taku-Wakin, 
and  the  grass  ball  which  stopped  its  mouth  fell  out 
unnoticed.  But  no  water  came  out ! 

"Many  of  the  waters  of  the  Swamp  were  bitter 
and  caused  sickness,  so  it  was  no  new  thing  for  a 
man  to  have  his  own  water-bottle  at  Council.  But 
why  should  he  carry  a  stopped  bottle  and  no  water 
in  it?  Thus  I  watched,  while  Taku-Wakin  played 
for  his  life  with  the  people's  minds,  and  Opata 
watched  neither  the  people  nor  him,  but  the  un 
stopped  mouth  of  the  water-bottle. 

"  I  looked  where  Opata  looked,  for  I  said  to  my 
self,  from  that  point  comes  the  mischief,  and 
looking  I  saw  a  streak  of  silver  pour  out  of  the 
mouth  of  the  bottle  and  coil  and  lift  and  make  as 
a  snake  will  for  the  nearest  shadow.  It  was  the 
shadow  of  Taku-Wakin's  bare  legs.  Then  I  knew 
why  Opata  smelled  of  mischief  when  he  had  caught 
snakes  in  the  lagoon.  But  I  was  afraid  to  speak, 
for  I  saw  that  if  Taku  moved  the  snake  would 
strike,  and  there  is  no  cure  for  the  bite  of  the  snake 
called  Silver  Moccasin. 

44 


THE  TRAIL  TO  THE  SEA 

"  Everybody's  eyes  were  on  the  rod  but  mine  and 
Opata's,  and  as  I  saw  Taku  straighten  to  throw, 
I  lifted  my  voice  in  the  dark  and  trumpeted, 
'Snake!  Snake!'  Taku  leaped,  but  he  knew  my 
voice  and  he  was  not  so  frightened  as  the  rest  of 
them,  who  began  falling  on  their  faces.  Taku  leaped 
as  the  Silver  Moccasin  lifted  to  strike,  and  the  stick 
as  it  flew  out  of  his  hand,  low  down  like  a  skimming 
bird,  came  back  in  a  circle  —  he  must  have  prac 
ticed  many  times  with  it  —  and  dropped  the  snake 
with  its  back  broken.  The  people  put  their  hands 
over  their  mouths.  They  had  not  seen  the  snake 
at  all,  but  a  stick  that  came  back  to  the  thrower's 
hand  was  magic.  They  waited  to  see  what  Opata 
would  do  about  it. 

"  Opata  stood  up.  He  was  a  brave  man,  I  think, 
for  the  Stick  was  Magic  to  him,  also,  and  yet  he 
stood  out  against  it.  Black  Magic  he  said  it  was, 
and  no  wonder  it  had  not  led  them  out  of  the 
Swamp,  since  it  was  a  false  stick  and  Taku-Wakin 
a  Two-Talker.  Taku-Wakin  could  no  more  lead 
them  out  of  the  Swamp  than  his  stick  would  leave 
him.  Like  it,  they  would  be  thrown  and  come  back 
to  the  hand  of  Taku-Wakin  for  his  own  purposes. 

"He  was  a  clever  man,  was  Opata.  He  was  a 
fine  tall  man,  beaked  like  an  eagle,  and  as  he 
moved  about  in  the  clear  space  by  the  fire,  making 
a  pantomime  of  all  he  said,  as  their  way  is  in  speech- 
making,  he  began  to  take  hold  on  the  minds  of  the 

45 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

people.  Taku-Wakin  watched  sidewise;  he  saw  the 
snake  writhing  on  the  ground  and  the  unstopped 
water-bottle  with  the  ground  dry  under  it.  I 
think  he  suspected.  I  saw  a  little  ripple  go  over 
his  naked  body  as  if  a  thought  had  struck  him.  He 
stepped  aside  once,  and  as  Opata  came  at  him, 
threatening  and  accusing,  he  changed  his  place 
again,  ever  so  slightly.  The  people  yelped  as  they 
thought  they  saw  Taku  fall  back  before  him.  Opata 
was  shaking  his  spear,  and  I  began  to  wonder  if  I 
had  not  waited  too  long  to  come  to  Taku-Wakin's 
rescue,  when  suddenly  Opata  stopped  still  in  his 
tracks  and  shuddered.  He  went  gray  in  the  fire 
light,  and  —  he  was  a  brave  man  who  knew  his 
death  when  he  had  met  it  —  from  beside  his  foot 
he  lifted  up  the  broken-backed  snake  on  his  spear- 
point.  Even  as  he  held  it  up  for  all  of  them  to  see, 
his  limbs  began  to  jerk  and  stiffen. 

"I  went  back  to  look  for  One-Tusk.  The  end  of 
those  who  are  bitten  by  the  moccasin  is  not  pretty 
to  see,  and  besides,  I  had  business.  One-Tusk  and 
I  walked  through  all  nine  villages  .  .  .  and  when 
we  had  come  out  on  the  other  side  there  were  not 
two  sticks  of  them  laid  together.  Then  the  people 
came  and  looked  and  were  afraid,  and  Taku-Wakin 
came  and  made  a  sound  as  when  a  man  drops  a 
ripe  paw-paw  on  the  ground.  'Pr-r-utt!'  he  said, 
as  though  it  were  no  more  matter  than  that.  '  Now 
we  shall  have  the  less  to  carry.'  But  the  mother 


THE  TRAIL  TO  THE  SEA 

of  Taku-Wakin  made  a  terrible  outcry.  In  the 
place  where  her  hut  had  been  she  had  found 
the  Talking  Stick  of  Taku's  father,  trampled  to 
splinters. 

"She  had  had  it  all  the  time  hidden  in  her 
bundle.  Long-Hand  had  told  her  it  was  Magic 
Medicine  and  she  must  never  let  any  one  have  it. 
She  thought  it  was  the  only  thing  that  had  kept  her 
and  her  children  safe  on  this  journey.  But  Taku 
told  them  that  it  was  his  father's  Rod  which  had 
bewitched  them  and  kept  them  from  going  any 
farther  because  it  had  come  to  the  end  of  its 
knowledge.  Now  they  would  be  free  to  follow  his 
own  Stick,  which  was  so  much  wiser.  So  he  caught 
their  minds  as  he  had  caught  the  Stick,  swinging 
back  from  disaster.  For  this  is  the  way  with  men, 
if  they  have  reason  which  suits  them  they  do  not 
care  whether  it  is  reasonable  or  not.  It  was  suf 
ficient  for  them,  one  crooked  stick  being  broken, 
that  they  should  rise  up  with  a  shout  and  follow 
another." 

Arrumpa  was  silent  so  long  that  the  children 
fidgeted. 

"  But  it  could  n't  have  been  just  as  easy  as  that," 
Dorcas  insisted.  "  And  what  did  they  do  when  they 
got  to  the  sea  finally?" 

"They  complained  of  the  fishy  taste  of  every 
thing,"  said  Arrumpa;  "also  they  suffered  on  the 
way  for  lack  of  food,  and  Apunkewis  was  eaten 

47 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

by  an  alligator.  Then  they  were  afraid  again  when 
they  came  to  the  place  beyond  the  Swamp  where 
the  water  went  to  and  fro  as  the  sea  pushed  it, 
until  some  of  the  old  men  remembered  they  had 
heard  it  was  the  sea's  custom.  Twice  daily  the 
water  came  in  as  if  to  feed  on  the  marsh  grass. 
Great  clouds  of  gulls  flew  inland,  screaming  down 
the  wind,  and  across  the  salt  flats  they  had  their 
first  sight  of  the  low,  hard  land. 

"  We  lost  them  there,  for  we  could  not  eat  the  salt 
grass,  and  Scrag  had  turned  north  by  a  mud  slough 
where  the  waters  were  bitter,  and  red  moss  grew 
on  the  roots  of  the  willows.  We  ate  for  a  quarter 
of  the  moon's  course  before  we  went  back  around 
the  hard  land  to  see  what  had  become  of  Taku- 
Wakin.  We  fed  as  far  as  there  was  any  browse 
between  the  sea  and  the  marsh,  and  at  last  we  saw 
them  come,  across  the  salt  pastures.  They  were 
sleek  as  otters  with  the  black  slime  of  the  sloughs, 
and  there  was  not  a  garment  left  on  them  which 
had  not  become  water-soaked  and  useless.  Some 
of  the  women  had  made  slips  of  sea-birds'  skins 
and  nets  of  marsh  grass  for  carrying  their  young. 
It  was  only  by  these  things  that  you  could  tell 
that  they  were  Man.  They  came  out  where  the 
hard  land  thinned  to  a  tusk,  thrust  far  out  into  the 
white  froth  and  the  thunder.  We  saw  them  naked 
on  the  rocks,  and  then  with  a  great  shout  join 
hands  as  they  ran  all  together  down  the  naked 

48 


THE  TRAIL  TO  THE  SEA 

sand  to  worship  the  sea.  But  Taku-Wakin  walked 
by  himself  .  .  ." 

"And  did  you  stay  there  with  him?"  asked 
Oliver  when  he  saw  by  the  stir  in  the  audience 
that  the  story  was  quite  finished. 

"We  went  back  that  winter  —  One-Tusk  and  I; 
in  time  they  all  went,"  said  Arrumpa.  "It  was  too 
cold  by  the  sea  in  winter.  And  the  land  changed. 
Even  in  Taku-Wakin's  time  it  changed  greatly. 
The  earth  shook  and  the  water  ran  out  of  the  marsh 
into  the  sea  again,  and  there  was  hard  ground 
most  of  the  way  to  Two  Rivers.  Every  year  the 
tribes  used  to  go  down  by  it  to  gather  sea  food." 

The  Indians  nodded. 

" It  was  so  in  our  time,"  they  said.  "There  were 
great  heaps  of  shells  by  the  sea  where  we  came  and 
dried  fish  and  feasted." 

"Shell  Mounds,"  said  Oliver.  "I've  heard  of 
those,  too.  But  I  never  thought  they  had  stories 
about  them." 

"There  is  a  story  about  everything,"  said  the 
Buffalo  Chief;  and  by  this  time  the  children  were 
quite  ready  to  believe  him. 


HOW  HOWKAWANDA  AND  FRIEND-AT-THE-BACK 

FOUND  THE  TRAIL  TO  THE  BUFFALO  COUNTRY 

TOLD  BY  THE  COYOTE 

"CONCERNING  that  Talking  Stick  of  Taku-Wa- 
kin's," —  said  the  Coyote,  as  the  company  settled 
back  after  Arrumpa's  story, — "there  is  a  Telling  of 
my  people  .  .  .  not  of  a  Rod,  but  a  Skin,  a  hide  of 
thy  people,  Great  Chief,"  —  he  bowed  to  the  Bull 
Buffalo,  —  "  that  talked  of  Tamal-Pyweack  and  a 
Dead  Man's  Journey — "  The  little  beast  stood 
with  lifted  paw  and  nose  delicately  pointed  toward 
the  Bighorn's  country  as  it  lifted  from  the  prairie, 
drawing  the  earth  after  it  in  great  folds,  high  crest 
beyond  high  crest  flung  against  the  sun;  light  and 
color  like  the  inside  of  a  shell  playing  in  its  snow- 
filled  hollows. 

50 


THE  BUFFALO  COUNTRY  TRAIL 

Up  sprang  every  Plainsman,  painted  shield 
dropped  to  the  shoulder,  right  hand  lifted,  palm 
outward,  and  straight  as  an  arrow  out  of  every 
throat,  the  "  Hey  a-hey  a-huh  I "  of  the  Indian  saluta 
tion. 

"Backbone  of  the  World!"  cried  the  Blackfoot. 
"Did  you  come  over  that,  Little  Brother?" 

"Not  I,  but  my  father's  father's  first  father. 
By  the  Crooked  Horn,"  —  he  indicated  a  peak 
like  a  buffalo  horn,  and  a  sag  in  the  crest  below  it. 

"Then  that,"  said  Bighorn,  dropping  with  one 
bound  from  his  aerial  lookout,  "should  be  my 
story,  for  my  people  made  that  trail,  and  it  was 
long  before  any  other  trod  in  it." 

"It  was  of  that  first  treading  that  the  Skin 
talked,"  agreed  the  Coyote.  He  looked  about  the 
company  for  permission  to  begin,  and  then  ad 
dressed  himself  to  Arrumpa.  "You  spoke,  Chief 
Two-Tails,  of  the  'tame  wolves'  of  Taku-Wakin; 
were  they  wolves,  or  — " 

"Very  like  you,  Wolfling,  now  that  I  think  of  it," 
agreed  the  Mastodon,  "and  they  were  not  tame 
exactly;  they  ran  at  the  heels  of  the  hunters  for 
what  they  could  pick  up,  and  sometimes  they  drove 
up  game  for  him." 

"Why  should  a  coyote,  who  is  the  least  of  all 
wolves,  hunt  for  himself  when  he  can  find  a  man  to 
follow?"  said  the  Blackfoot,  who  sat  smoking  a 
great  calumet  out  of  the  west  corridor.  "Man  is 

51 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

the  wolf's  Medicine.  In  him  he  hears  the  voice  of 
the  Great  Mystery,  and  becomes  a  dog,  which  is 
great  gain  to  him." 

Pleased  as  if  his  master  had  patted  him,  without 
any  further  introduction  the  Coyote  began  his 
story. 

"  Thus  and  so  thought  the  First  Father  of  all  the 
Dogs  in  the  year  when  he  was  called  Friend-at-the- 
Back,  and  Pathfinder.  That  was  the  time  of  the 
Great  Hunger,  nearly  two  years  after  he  joined  the 
man  pack  at  Hidden-under-the-Mountain  and  was 
still  known  by  his  lair  name  of  Younger  Brother. 
He  followed  a  youth  who  was  the  quickest  afoot 
and  the  readiest  laugher.  He  would  skulk  about 
the  camp  at  Hidden-under-the-Mountain  watch 
ing  until  the  hunters  went  out.  Sometimes  How- 
kawanda  —  that  was  the  young  man  he  followed 
—  would  give  a  coyote  cry  of  warning,  and  some 
times  Younger  Brother  would  trot  off  in  the  direc 
tion  where  he  knew  the  game  to  be,  looking  back 
and  pointing  until  the  young  men  caught  the  idea; 
after  which,  when  they  had  killed,  the  hunters 
would  laugh  and  throw  him  pieces  of  liver. 

"The  Country  of  Dry  Washes  lies  between  the 
Cinoave  on  the  south  and  the  People  of  the  Bow 
who  possessed  the  Salmon  Rivers,  a  great  gray 
land  cut  across  by  deep  gullies  where  the  wild 
waters  come  down  from  the  Wall-of-Shining- 
Rocks  and  worry  the  bone-white  boulders.  The 

52 


THE  BUFFALO  COUNTRY  TRAIL 

People  of  the  Dry  Washes  live  meanly,  and  are 
meanly  spoken  of  by  the  People  of  the  Coast  who 
drove  them  inland  from  the  sea  borders.  After 
the  Rains,  when  the  quick  grass  sprang  up,  vast 
herds  of  deer  and  pronghorn  come  down  from  the 
mountains;  and  when  there  were  no  rains  the  people 
ate  lizards  and  roots.  In  the  moon  of  the  Frost- 
Touching-Mildly  clouds  came  up  from  the  south 
with  a  great  trampling  of  thunder,  and  flung  out 
over  the  Dry  Washes  as  a  man  flings  his  blanket 
over  a  maiden.  Rut  if  the  Rains  were  scant  for  two 
or  three  seasons,  then  there  was  Hunger,  and  the 
dust  devils  took  the  mesas  for  their  dancing-places. 
"Now,  Man  tribe  and  Wolf  tribe  are  alike  in 
one  thing.  When  there  is  scarcity  the  packs  in 
crease  to  make  surer  of  bringing  down  the  quarry, 
but  when  the  pinch  begins  they  hunt  scattering  and 
avoid  one  another.  That  was  how  it  happened  that 
the  First  Father,  who  was  still  called  Younger 
Rrother,  was  alone  with  Howkawanda  when  he 
was  thrown  by  a  buck  at  Talking  Water  in  the 
moon  of  the  Frost-Touching-Mildly.  Howka 
wanda  had  caught  the  buck  by  the  antlers  in  a 
blind  gully  at  the  foot  of  the  Tamal-Pyweack, 
trying  for  the  throw  back  and  to  the  left  which 
drops  a  buck  running,  with  his  neck  broken.  Rut 
his  feet  slipped  on  the  grass  which  grows  sleek  with 
dryness,  and  by  the  time  the  First  Father  came  up 
the  buck  had  him  down,  scoring  the  ground  on 

53 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

either  side  of  the  man's  body  with  his  sharp  ant 
lers,  lifting  and  trampling.  Younger  Brother 
leaped  at  the  throat.  The  toss  of  the  antlers  to 
meet  the  stroke  drew  the  man  up  standing.  Throw 
ing  his  whole  weight  to  the  right  he  drove  home 
with  his  hunting-knife  and  the  buck  toppled  and  fell 
as  a  tree  falls  of  its  own  weight  in  windless  weather. 

"'Now,  for  this,'  said  Howkawanda  to  my  First 
Father,  when  they  had  breathed  a  little,  'you  are 
become  my  very  brother.'  Then  he  marked  the 
coyote  with  the  blood  of  his  own  hurts,  as  the  cus 
tom  is  when  men  are  not  born  of  one  mother,  and 
Younger  Brother,  who  had  never  been  touched 
by  a  man,  trembled.  That  night,  though  it  made 
the  hair  on  his  neck  rise  with  strangeness,  he  went 
into  the  hut  of  Howkawanda  at  Hidden-under-the- 
Mountain  and  the  villagers  wagged  their  heads 
over  it.  'Hunger  must  be  hard  on  our  trail,'  they 
said,  'when  the  wolves  come  to  house  with  us.' 

"But  Howkawanda  only  laughed,  for  that  year 
he  had  found  a  maiden  who  was  more  than  meat  to 
him.  He  made  a  flute  of  four  notes  which  he  would 
play,  lying  out  in  the  long  grass,  over  and  over, 
until  she  came  out  to  him.  Then  they  would  talk, 
or  the  maiden  would  pull  grass  and  pile  it  in  little 
heaps  while  Howkawanda  looked  at  her  and  the 
First  Father  looked  at  his  master,  and  none  of 
them  cared  where  the  Rains  were. 

"But  when  no  rain  fell  at  all,  the  camp  was 

54 


THE  BUFFALO  COUNTRY  TRAIL 

moved  far  up  the  shrunken  creek,  and  Younger  Bro 
ther  learned  to  catch  grasshoppers,  and  ate  juniper 
berries,  while  the  men  sat  about  the  fire  hugging 
their  lean  bellies  and  talking  of  Dead  Man's  Jour 
ney.  This  they  would  do  whenever  there  was  a 
Hunger  in  the  Country  of  the  Dry  Washes,  and 
when  they  were  fed  they  forgot  it." 

The  Coyote  interrupted  his  own  story  long 
enough  to  explain  that  though  there  were  no  buffa 
loes  in  the  Country  of  the  Dry  Washes,  on  the  other 
side  of  the  Wall-of-Shining-Rocks  the  land  was 
black  with  them.  "Now  and  then  stray  herds  broke 
through  by  passes  far  to  the  north  in  the  Land  of 
the  Salmon  Rivers,  but  the  people  of  that  country 
would  not  let  Howkawanda's  people  hunt  them. 
Every  year,  when  they  went  up  by  tribes  and  vil 
lages  to  the  Tamal-Pyweack  to  gather  pine  nuts, 
the  People  of  the  Dry  Washes  looked  for  a  possible 
trail  through  the  Wall  to  the  Buffalo  Country. 
There  was  such  a  trail.  Once  a  man  of  strange 
dress  and  speech  had  found  his  way  over  it,  but  he 
was  already  starved  when  they  picked  him  up  at  the 
place  called  Trap-of-the- Winds,  and  died  before  he 
could  tell  anything.  The  most  that  was  known  of 
this  trail  at  Hidden-under-the-Mountain  was  that 
it  led  through  Knife-Cut  Canon;  but  at  the  Wind 
Trap  they  lost  it. 

" '  I  have  heard  of  that  trail,'  said  the  First  Father 
of  all  the  Dogs  to  Howkawanda,  one  day,  when  they 

55 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

had  hunted  too  far  for  returning  and  spent  the 
night  under  a  juniper:  'a  place  where  the  wind 
tramples  between  the  mountains  like  a  trapped 
beast.  But  there  is  a  trail  beyond  it.  I  have  not 
walked  in  it.  All  my  people  went  that  way  at  the 
beginning  of  the  Hunger.' 

'"For  your  people  there  may  be  a  way,'  said 
Howkawanda,  'but  for  mine  —  they  are  all  dead 
who  have  looked  for  it.  Nevertheless,  Younger 
Brother,  if  we  be  not  dead  men  ourselves  when 
this  Hunger  is  past,  you  and  I  will  go  on  this  Dead 
Man's  Journey.  Just  now  we  have  other  business.' 

"It  is  the  law  of  the  Hunger  that  the  strongest 
must  be  fed  first,  so  that  there  shall  always  be  one 
strong  enough  to  hunt  for  the  others.  But  Howka 
wanda  gave  the  greater  part  of  his  portion  to  his 
maiden. 

"So  it  happened  that  sickness  laid  hold  on  How 
kawanda  between  two  days.  In  the  morning  he 
called  to  Younger  Brother.  'Lie  outside,'  he  said, 
'lest  the  sickness  take  you  also,  but  come  to  me 
every  day  with  your  kill,  and  let  no  man  prevent 
you.' 

"  So  Younger  Brother,  who  was  able  to  live  on 
juniper  berries,  hunted  alone  for  the  camp  of 
Hidden-under-the-Mountain,  and  Howkawanda 
held  back  Death  with  one  hand  and  gripped  the 
heart  of  the  First  Father  of  all  the  Dogs  with  the 
other.  For  he  was  afraid  that  if  he  died,  Younger 

56 


THE  BUFFALO  COUNTRY  TRAIL 

Brother  would  turn  wolf  again,  and  the  tribe  would 
perish.  Every  day  he  would  divide  what  Younger 
Brother  brought  in,  and  after  the  villagers  were 
gone  he  would  inquire  anxiously  and  say, '  Do  you 
smell  the  Rain,  Friend  and  Brother?' 

"But  at  last  he  was  too  weak  for  asking,  and 
then  quite  suddenly  his  voice  was  changed  and 
he  said,  'I  smell  the  Rain,  Little  Brother!'  For  in 
those  days  men  could  smell  weather  quite  as  well 
as  the  other  animals.  But  the  dust  of  his  own 
running  was  in  Younger  Brother's  nose,  and  he 
thought  that  his  master's  mind  wandered.  The  sick 
man  counted  on  his  fingers.  'In  three  days,'  he 
said,  'if  the  Rains  come,  the  back  of  the  Hunger  is 
broken.  Therefore  I  will  not  die  for  three  days. 
Go,  hunt,  Friend  and  Brother.' 

"The  sickness  must  have  sharpened  Howka- 
wanda's  senses,  for  the  next  day  the  coyote  brought 
him  word  that  the  water  had  come  back  in  the 
gully  where  they  threw  the  buck,  which  was  a  sign 
that  rain  was  falling  somewhere  on  the  high  ridges. 
And  the  next  day  he  brought  word, '  The  tent  of  the 
sky  is  building.'  This  was  the  tentlike  cloud  that 
would  stretch  from  peak  to  peak  of  the  Tamal- 
Pyweack  at  the  beginning  of  the  Rainy  Season. 

"Howkawanda  rose  up  in  his  bed  and  called  the 
people.  'Go,  hunt!  go,  hunt!'  he  said;  'the  deer 
have  come  back  to  Talking  Water.'  Then  he  lay 
still  and  heard  them,  as  many  as  were  able,  going 

57 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

out  joyfully.  '  Stay  you  here,  Friend  and  Brother,' 
he  said,  'for  now  I  can  sleep  a  little.' 

"So  the  First  Father  of  all  the  Dogs  lay  at  his 
master's  feet  and  whined  a  little  for  sympathy 
while  the  people  hunted  for  themselves,  and  the 
myriad-footed  Rain  danced  on  the  dry  thatch  of 
the  hut  and  the  baked  mesa.  Later  the  creek  rose 
in  its  withered  banks  and  began  to  talk  to  itself  in 
a  new  voice,  the  voice  of  Raining-on-the-Moun- 
tain. 

"  '  Now  I  shall  sleep  well,'  said  the  sick  man.  So 
he  fell  into  deeper  and  deeper  pits  of  slumber  while 
the  rain  came  down  in  torrents,  the  grass  sprouted, 
and  far  away  Younger  Brother  could  hear  the 
snapping  of  the  brush  as  the  Horned  People  came 
down  the  mountain. 

"  It  was  about  the  first  streak  of  the  next  morning 
that  the  people  waked  in  their  huts  to  hear  a  long, 
throaty  howl  from  Younger  Brother.  Howka- 
wanda  lay  cold,  and  there  was  no  breath  in  him. 
They  thought  the  coyote  howled  for  grief,  but  it 
was  really  because,  though  his  master  lay  like  one 
dead,  there  was  no  smell  of  death  about  him,  and 
the  First  Father  was  frightened.  The  more  he 
howled,  however,  the  more  certain  the  villagers 
were  that  Howkawanda  was  dead,  and  they  made 
haste  to  dispose  of  the  body.  Now  that  the  back 
of  the  Hunger  was  broken,  they  wished  to  go  back 
to  Hidden-under-the-Mountain. 

58 


THE  BUFFALO  COUNTRY  TRAIL 

"  They  drove  Younger  Brother  away  with  sticks 
and  wrapped  the  young  man  in  fine  deerskins, 
binding  them  about  and  about  with  thongs,  with 
his  knife  and  his  fire-stick  and  his  hunting-gear 
beside  him.  Then  they  made  ready  brush,  the  dry- 
est  they  could  find,  for  it  was  the  custom  of  the 
Dry  Washes  to  burn  the  dead.  They  thought  of 
the  Earth  as  their  mother  and  would  not  put  any 
thing  into  it  to  defile  it.  The  Head  Man  made  a 
speech,  putting  in  all  the  virtues  of  Howkawanda, 
and  those  that  he  might  have  had  if  he  had  been 
spared  to  them  longer,  while  the  women  cast  dust 
on  their  hair  and  rocked  to  and  fro  howling. 
Younger  Brother  crept  as  close  to  the  pyre  as  he 
dared,  and  whined  in  his  throat  as  the  fire  took  hold 
of  the  brush  and  ran  crackling  up  the  open  spaces. 

"It  took  hold  of  the  wrapped  deerskins,  ran  in 
sparks  like  little  deer  in  the  short  hair,  and  bit 
through  to  Howkawanda.  But  no  sooner  had  he 
felt  the  teeth  of  the  flame  than  the  young  man 
came  back  from  the  place  where  he  had  been,  and 
sat  up  in  the  midst  of  the  burning.  He  leaped  out 
of  the  fire,  and  the  people  scattered  like  embers 
and  put  their  hands  over  their  mouths,  as  is  the 
way  with  men  when  they  are  astonished.  Howka- 
w^anda,  wrapped  as  he  was,  rolled  on  the  damp  sand 
till  the  fires  were  out,  while  Younger  Brother 
gnawed  him  free  of  the  death-wrappings,  and  the 
people's  hands  were  still  at  their  mouths.  But 

59 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

the  first  step  he  took  toward  them  they  caught  up 
sticks  and  stones  to  threaten. 

"It  was  a  fearful  thing  to  them  that  he  should 
come  back  from  being  dead.  Besides,  the  hair  was 
burned  half  off  his  head,  and  he  was  streaked  raw 
all  down  one  side  where  the  fire  had  bitten  him.  He 
stood  blinking,  trying  to  pick  up  their  meaning 
with  his  eyes.  His  maiden  looked  up  from  her 
mother's  lap  where  she  wept  for  him,  and  fled 
shrieking. 

"'Dead,  go  back  to  the  dead!'  cried  the  Head 
Man,  but  he  did  not  stop  to  see  whether  Howka- 
wanda  obeyed  him,  for  by  this  time  the  whole  pack 
was  squealing  down  the  creek  to  Hidden-under-the- 
Mountain.  Howkawanda  looked  at  his  maiden 
running  fast  with  the  strength  of  the  portion  he 
had  saved  for  her;  looked  at  the  empty  camp  and 
the  bare  hillside;  looked  once  at  the  high  Wall  of 
the  Pyweack,  and  laughed  as  much  as  his  burns 
would  let  him. 

"'If  we  two  be  dead  men,  Brother,'  he  said,  'it 
may  be  we  shall  have  luck  on  a  Dead  Man's 
Journey.' 

"  It  would  have  been  better  if  they  could  have 
set  out  at  once,  for  rain  in  the  Country  of  Dry 
Washes  means  snow  on  the  Mountain.  But  they 
had  to  wait  for  the  healing  of  Howkawanda's  burns, 
and  to  plump  themselves  out  a  little  on  the  meat 
—  none  too  fat  —  that  came  down  on  its  own  feet 

60 


THE  BUFFALO  COUNTRY  TRAIL 

before  the  Rains.  They  lay  in  the  half-ruined  huts 
and  heard,  in  the  intervals  of  the  storm,  the  beat 
ing  of  tom-toms  at  Hidden-under-the-Mountain 
to  keep  off  the  evil  influences  of  one  who  had 
been  taken  for  dead  and  was  alive  again. 

"By  the  time  they  were  able  to  climb  to  the 
top  of  Knife-Cut  Canon  the  snow  lay  over  the 
mountains  like  a  fleece,  and  at  every  turn  of  the 
wind  it  shifted.  From  the  Pass  they  dropped  down 
into  a  pit  between  the  ranges,  where,  long  before 
they  came  to  it,  they  could  hear  the  wind  beating 
about  like  a  trapped  creature.  Here  great  moun 
tain-heads  had  run  together  like  bucks  in  autumn, 
digging  with  shining  granite  hooves  deep  into  the 
floor  of  the  Canon.  Into  this  the  winds  would  drop 
from  the  high  places  like  broken-winged  birds, 
dashing  themselves  against  the  polished  walls  of 
the  Pyweack,  dashing  and  falling  back  and  crying 
woundedly.  There  was  no  other  way  into  this 
Wind  Trap  than  the  way  Howkawanda  and 
Younger  Brother  had  come.  If  there  was  any  way 
out  only  the  Four-Footed  People  knew  it. 

"But  over  all  their  trails  snow  lay,  deepening 
daily,  and  great  rivers  of  water  that  fell  into  the 
Trap  in  summer  stood  frozen  stiff  like  ice  vines 
climbing  the  Pyweack. 

"The  two  travelers  made  them  a  hut  in  broad 
branches  of  a  great  fir,  for  the  snow  was  more  than 
man-deep  already,  and  crusted  over.  They  laid 

61 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

sticks  on  the  five-branched  whorl  and  cut  away  the 
boughs  above  them  until  they  could  stand.  Here 
they  nested,  with  the  snow  on  the  upper  branches 
like  thatch  to  keep  them  safe  against  the  wind. 
They  ran  on  the  surface  of  the  snow,  which  was 
packed  firm  in  the  bottom  of  the  Trap,  and  caught 
birds  and  small  game  wintering  in  runways  under 
the  snow  where  the  stiff  brush  arched  and  upheld  it. 
When  the  wind,  worn  out  with  its  struggles,  would 
lie  still  in  the  bottom  of  the  Trap,  the  two  would 
race  over  the  snow-crust  whose  whiteness  cut  the 
eye  like  a  knife,  working  into  every  winding  of  the 
Canon  for  some  clue  to  the  Dead  Man's  Journey. 
"On  one  of  these  occasions,  caught  by  a  sudden 
storm,  they  hugged  themselves  for  three  days  and 
ate  what  food  they  had,  mouthful  by  mouthful, 
while  the  snow  slid  past  them  straight  and  sod 
den.  It  closed  smooth  over  the  tree  where  their 
house  was,  to  the  middle  branches.  Two  days  more 
they  waited  until  the  sun  by  day  and  the  cold  at 
night  had  made  a  crust  over  the  fresh  fall.  On 
the  second  day  they  saw  something  moving  in  the 
middle  of  the  Canon.  Half  a  dozen  wild  geese  had 
been  caught  in  one  of  the  wind  currents  that  race 
like  rivers  about  the  High  Places  of  the  World,  and 
dropped  exhausted  into  the  Trap.  Now  they  rose 
heavily;  but,  starved  and  blinded,  they  could  not 
pitch  their  flight  to  that  great  height.  Round  and 
round  they  beat,  and  back  they  dropped  from  the 

62 


Shot  downward  to  the  ledge  where  Howkawanda  and  Younger 
Brother  hugged  themselves  " 


THE  BUFFALO  COUNTRY  TRAIL 

huge  mountain-heads,  bewildered.  Finally,  the 
leader  rose  alone  higher  and  higher  in  that  thin 
atmosphere  until  the  watchers  almost  lost  him,  and 
then,  exhausted,  shot  downward  to  the  ledge  where 
Howkawanda  and  Younger  Brother  hugged  them 
selves  in  the  shelter  of  a  wind-driven  drift.  They 
could  see  the  gander's  body  shaken  all  over  with 
the  pumping  of  his  heart  as  Younger  Brother  took 
him  hungrily  by  the  neck. 

"'Nay,  Brother,'  said  Howkawanda,  'but  I  also 
have  been  counted  dead,  and  it  is  in  my  heart  that 
this  one  shall  serve  us  better  living  than  dead.' 
He  nursed  the  great  white  bird  in  his  bosom  and 
fed  it  with  the  last  of  their  food  and  a  little  snow 
water  melted  in  his  palm.  In  an  hour,  rested  and 
strengthened,  the  bird  rose  again,  beating  a  wide 
circle  slowly  and  steadily  upward,  until,  with  one 
faint  honk  of  farewell,  it  sailed  slowly  out  of  sight 
between  the  peaks,  sure  of  its  direction. 

"'That  way,'  said  Howkawanda,  'lies  Dead 
Man's  Journey.' 

"When  they  came  back  over  the  same  trail  a 
year  later,  they  were  frightened  to  see  what  steeps 
and  crevices  they  had  covered.  But  for  that  first 
trip  the  snow-crust  held  firm  while  they  made 
straight  for  the  gap  in  the  peaks  through  which  the 
wild  goose  had  disappeared.  They  traveled  as  long 
as  the  light  lasted,  though  their  hearts  sobbed  and 
shook  with  the  thin  air  and  the  cold. 

63 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

"The  drifts  were  thinner,  and  the  rocks  came 
through  with  clusters  of  wind-slanted  cedars.  By 
nightfall  snow  began  again,  and  they  moved, 
touching,  for  they  could  not  see  an  arm's  length 
and  dared  not  stop  lest  the  snow  cover  them.  And 
the  hair  along  the  back  of  Younger  Brother  began 
to  prick. 

"Here  I  die,  indeed,'  said  Howkawanda  at  last, 
for  he  suffered  most  because  of  his  naked  skin.  He 
sank  down  in  the  soft  snow  at  Younger  Brother's 
shoulder. 

'"Up,  Master,'  said  Younger  Brother,  'I  hear 
something.' 

"'It  is  the  Storm  Spirit  singing  my  death  song,' 
said  Howkawanda. 

But  the  coyote  took  him  by  the  neck  of  his  deer 
skin  shirt  and  dragged  him  a  little. 

"'Now,'  he  said,  'I  smell  something.' 

"Presently  they  stumbled  into  brush  and  knew 
it  for  red  cedar.  Patches  of  it  grew  thick  on  the 
high  ridges,  matted  close  for  cover.  As  the  travel 
ers  crept  under  it  they  heard  the  rustle  of  shoulder 
against  shoulder,  the  moving  click  of  horns,  and  the 
bleat  of  yearlings  for  their  mothers.  They  had 
stumbled  in  the  dark  on  the  bedding-place  of  a 
flock  of  Bighorn. 

"'Now  we  shall  also  eat,'  said  Younger  Brother, 
for  he  was  quite  empty. 

"The  hand  of  Howkawanda  came  out  and  took 

64 


THE  BUFFALO  COUNTRY  TRAIL 

him  firmly  by  the  loose  skin  between  the  shoul 
ders. 

"'There  was  a  coyote  once  who  became  brother 
to  a  man,'  he  said,  'and  men,  when  they  enter  a 
strange  house  in  search  of  shelter  and  direction, 
do  not  first  think  of  killing.' 

" '  One  blood  we  are,'  said  the  First  Father  of 
Dogs,  remembering  how  Howkawanda  had  marked 
him, '  but  we  are  not  of  one  smell  and  the  rams  may 
trample  me.' 

"Howkawanda  took  off  his  deerskin  and  put 
around  the  coyote  so  that  he  should  have  man 
smell  about  him,  for  at  that  time  the  Bighorn  had 
not  learned  to  fear  man. 

"They  could  hear  little  bleats  of  alarm  from  the 
ewes  and  the  huddling  of  the  flock  away  from  them, 
and  the  bunting  of  the  Chief  Ram's  horns  on  the 
cedars  as  he  came  to  smell  them  over.  Younger 
Brother  quivered,  for  he  could  think  of  nothing 
but  the  ram's  throat,  the  warm  blood  and  the  ten 
der  meat,  but  the  finger  of  Howkawanda  felt  along 
his  shoulders  for  the  scar  of  the  Blood-Mixing,  the 
time  they  had  killed  the  buck  at  Talking  Water. 
Then  the  First  Father  of  all  the  Dogs  understood 
that  Man  was  his  Medicine  and  his  spirit  leaped  up 
to  lick  the  face  of  the  man's  spirit.  He  lay  still  and 
felt  the  blowing  in  and  out  of  Howkawanda's  long 
hair  on  the  ram's  breath,  as  he  nuzzled  them  from 
head  to  heel.  Finally  the  Bighorn  stamped  twice 

65 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

with  all  his  four  feet  together,  as  a  sign  that  he 
had  found  no  harm  in  the  strangers.  They  could 
feel  the  flock  huddling  back,  and  the  warmth  of  the 
packed  fleeces.  In  the  midst  of  it  the  two  lay  down 
and  slept  till  morning. 

"They  were  alone  in  the  cedar  shelter  when  they 
woke,  but  the  track  of  the  flock  in  the  fresh-fallen 
snow  led  straight  over  the  crest  under  the  Crooked 
Horn  to  protected  slopes,  where  there  was  still 
some  browse  and  open  going. 

"Toward  nightfall  they  found  an  ancient  wether 
the  weight  of  whose  horns  had  sunk  him  deep  in 
the  soft  snow,  so  that  he  could  neither  go  forward 
nor  back.  Him  they  took.  It  was  pure  kindness, 
for  he  would  have  died  slowly  otherwise  of  starva 
tion.  That  is  the  Way  Things  Are,"  said  the 
Coyote;  "when  one  must  kill,  killing  is  allowed. 
But  before  they  killed  him  they  said  certain  words. 

"Later,"  the  Coyote  went  on,  "they  found  a 
deer  occasionally  and  mountain  hares.  Their  worst 
trouble  was  with  the  cold.  Snow  lay  deep  over 
the  dropped  timber  and  the  pine  would  not  burn. 
Howkawanda  would  scrape  together  moss  and  a 
few  twigs  for  a  little  fire  to  warm  the  front  of  him 
and  Younger  Brother  would  snuggle  at  his  back, 
so  between  two  friends  the  man  saved  himself." 

TheBlackfootnodded.  "  Fire  is  avery  old  friend  of 
Man,"  he  said ; "  so  old  that  the  mere  sight  of  it  com 
forts  him;  they  have  come  a  long  way  together." 


THE  BUFFALO  COUNTRY  TRAIL 

"Now  I  know,"  said  Oliver,  "why  you  called  the 
first  dog  Friend-at-the-Back." 

"Oh,  but  there  was  more  to  it  than  that,"  said 
the  Coyote,  "for  the  next  difficulty  they  had  was 
to  carry  their  food  when  they  found  it.  Howka- 
wanda  had  never  had  good  use  of  his  shoulder  since 
the  fire  bit  it,  and  even  a  buck's  quarter  weights 
a  man  too  much  in  loose  snow.  So  he  took  a  bough 
of  fir,  thick-set  with  little  twigs,  and  tied  the  kill 
on  that.  This  he  would  drag  behind  him,  and  it 
rode  lightly  over  the  surface  of  the  drifts.  When  the 
going  was  bad,  Younger  Brother  would  try  to  tug 
a  little  over  his  shoulder,  so  at  last  Howkawanda 
made  a  harness  for  him  to  pull  straight  ahead. 
Hours  when  they  would  lie  storm-bound  under  the 
cedars,  he  whittled  at  the  bough  and  platted  the 
twigs  together  till  it  rode  easily. 

"In  the  moon  of  Tender  Leaves,  the  people  of 
the  Buffalo  Country,  when  they  came  up  the  hills 
for  the  spring  kill,  met  a  very  curious  procession 
coming  down.  They  saw  a  man  with  no  clothes  but 
a  few  tatters  of  deerskin,  all  scarred  down  one  side 
of  his  body,  and  following  at  his  back  a  coyote  who 
dragged  a  curiously  plaited  platform,  by  means  of 
two  poles  harnessed  across  his  shoulders.  It  was 
the  first  travoise.  The  men  of  the  Buffalo  Country 
put  their  hands  over  their  mouths,  for  they  had 
never  seen  anything  like  it." 

The  Coyote  waited  for  the  deep  "huh-huh"  of 

67 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

approval  which  circled  the  attentive  audience  at  the 
end  of  the  story. 

"Fire  and  a  dog!"  said  the  Blackfoot,  adding  a 
little  pinch  of  sweet-grass  to  his  smoke  as  a  sign 
of  thankfulness,  —  "  Friend-on-the-Hearth  and 
Friend-at-the-Back!  Man  may  go  far  with  them." 

Moke-icha  turned  her  long  flanks  to  the  sun. 
"  Now  I  thought  the  tale  began  with  a  mention  of  a 
Talking  Skin— " 

"Oh,  that!"  The  Coyote  recalled  himself .  "After 
he  had  been  a  year  in  the  Buffalo  Country,  Howka- 
wanda  went  back  to  carry  news  of  the  trail  to  the 
Dry  Washes.  All  that  summer  he  worked  over  it 
while  his  dogs  hunted  for  him  —  for  Friend-at-the- 
Back  had  taken  a  mate  and  there  were  four  cubs  to 
run  with  them.  Every  day,  as  Howkawanda  worked 
out  the  trail,  he  marked  it  with  stone  and  tree-blazes. 
With  colored  earth  he  marked  it  on  a  buffalo  skin ; 
from  the  Wind  Trap  to  the  Buffalo  Country. 

"When  he  came  to  Hidden-under-the-Mountain 
he  left  his  dogs  behind,  for  he  said,  '  Howkawanda 
is  a  dead  man  to  them.'  In  the  Buffalo  Country 
he  was  known  as  Two-Friended,  and  that  was  his 
name  afterward.  He  was  dressed  after  the  fashion 
of  that  country,  with  a  great  buffalo  robe  that  cov 
ered  him,  and  his  face  was  painted.  So  he  came 
to  Hidden-under-the-Mountain  as  a  stranger  and 
made  signs  to  them.  And  when  they  had  fed  him, 
and  sat  him  in  the  chief  place  as  was  the  custom 


THE  BUFFALO  COUNTRY  TRAIL 

with  strangers,  he  took  the  writing  from  under  his 
robe  to  give  it  to  the  People  of  the  Dry  Washes. 
There  was  a  young  woman  near  by  nursing  her 
child,  and  she  gave  a  sudden  sharp  cry,  for  she  was 
the  one  that  had  been  his  maiden,  and  under  the 
edge  of  his  robe  she  saw  his  scars.  But  when  How- 
kawanda  looked  hard  at  her  she  pretended  that  the 
child  had  bitten  her." 

Dorcas  Jane  and  Oliver  drew  a  long  breath  when 
they  saw  that,  so  far  as  the  rest  of  the  audience 
was  concerned,  the  story  was  finished.  There  were 
a  great  many  questions  they  wished  to  ask,  —  as 
to  what  became  of  Howkawanda  after  that,  and 
whether  the  People  of  the  Dry  Washes  ever  found 
their  way  into  the  Buffalo  Country,  —  but  before 
they  could  begin  on  them,  the  Bull  Buffalo  stamped 
twice  with  his  fore-foot  for  a  sign  of  danger.  Far 
down  at  the  other  end  of  the  gallery  they  could 
hear  the  watchman  coming. 


VI 

DORCAS  JANE  HEARS  HOW  THE  CORN  CAME  TO  THE  VAL 
LEY  OF  THE  MISSI-SIPPU;  TOLD  BY  THE  CORN  WOMAN 

IT  was  one  of  those  holidays,  when  there  is  n't  any 
school  and  the  Museum  is  only  opened  for  a  few 
hours  in  the  afternoon,  that  Dorcas  Jane  had  come 
into  the  north  gallery  of  the  Indian  room  where 
her  father  was  at  work  mending  the  radiators.  This 
was  about  a  week  after  the  children's  first  adven 
ture  on  the  Buffalo  Trail,  but  it  was  before  the 
holes  had  been  cut  in  the  Museum  wall  to  let  you 
look  straight  across  the  bend  in  the  Colorado  and 
into  the  Hopi  pueblo.  Dorcas  looked  at  all  the  wall 
cases  and  wondered  how  it  was  the  Indians  seemed 
to  have  so  much  corn  and  so  many  kinds  of  it,  for 
she  had  always  thought  of  corn  as  a  civilized  sort  of 
thing  to  have.  She  sat  on  a  bench  against  the  wall 

70 


HOW  THE  CORN  CAME 

wondering,  for  the  lovely  clean  stillness  of  the  room 
encouraged  thinking,  and  the  clink  of  her  father's 
hammers  on  the  pipes  fell  presently  into  the  regu 
lar  tink-tink-a-tink  of  tortoise-shell  rattles,  keeping 
time  to  the  shuffle  and  beat  of  bare  feet  on  the 
dancing-place  by  the  river.  The  path  to  it  led 
across  a  clearing  between  little  hillocks  of  freshly 
turned  earth,  and  the  high  forest  overhead  was 
bursting  into  tiny  green  darts  of  growth  like 
flame.  The  rattles  were  sewed  to  the  leggings  of 
the  women  —  little  yellow  and  black  land-tortoise 
shells  filled  with  pebbles  —  who  sang  as  they  danced 
and  cut  themselves  with  flints  until  they  bled. 

"Oh,"  said  Dorcas,  without  waiting  to  be  intro 
duced,  "what  makes  you  do  that?" 

"To  make  the  corn  grow,"  said  the  tallest  and 
the  handsomest  of  the  women,  motioning  to  the 
others  to  leave  off  their  dancing  while  she  answered. 
"Listen!  You  can  hear  the  men  doing  their  part." 

From  the  forest  came  a  sudden  wild  whoop,  fol 
lowed  by  the  sound  of  a  drum,  little  and  far  off  like 
a  heart  beating.  "They  are  scaring  off  the  enemies 
of  the  corn,"  said  the  Corn  Woman,  for  Dorcas 
could  see  by  her  headdress,  which  was  of  dried  corn 
tassels  dyed  in  colors,  and  by  a  kind  of  kilt  she  wore, 
woven  of  corn  husks,  that  that  was  what  she  repre 
sented. 

"Oh!"  said  Dorcas;  and  then,  after  a  moment, 
"  It  sounds  as  if  you  were  sorry,  you  know." 

71 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

"When  the  seed  corn  goes  into  the  ground  it 
dies,"  said  the  Corn  Woman;  "the  tribe  might  die 
also  if  it  never  came  alive  again.  Also  we  lament 
for  the  Giver-of-the-Corn  who  died  giving." 

"  I  thought  corn  just  grew,"  said  Dorcas;  "  I  did 
n't  know  it  came  from  any  place." 

"From  the  People  of  the  Seed,  from  the  Country 
of  Stone  Houses.  It  was  bought  for  us  by  Given- 
to-the-Sun.  Our  people  came  from  the  East,  from 
the  place  where  the  Earth  opened,  from  the  place 
where  the  Noise  was,  where  the  Mountain  thun 
dered.  .  .  .  This  is  what  I  have  heard;  this  is  what 
the  Old  Ones  have  said,"  finished  the  Corn  Woman, 
as  though  it  were  some  sort  of  song. 

She  looked  about  to  the  others  as  if  asking  their 
consent  to  tell  the  story.  As  they  nodded,  sitting 
down  to  loosen  their  heavy  leggings,  Dorcas  could 
see  that  what  she  had  taken  to  be  a  shock  of  last 
year's  cornstalks,  standing  in  the  middle  of  the  dan 
cing-place,  was  really  tied  into  a  rude  resemblance 
to  a  woman.  Around  its  neck  was  one  of  the 
Indian's  sacred  bundles;  Dorcas  thought  it  might 
have  something  to  do  with  the  story,  but  decided 
to  wait  and  see. 

"There  was  a  trail  in  those  days,"  said  the  Corn 
Woman,  "from  the  buffalo  pastures  to  the  Country 
of  the  Stone  House.  We  used  to  travel  it  as  far  as 
the  ledge  where  there  was  red  earth  for  face-paint 
ing,  and  to  trade  with  the  Blanket  People  for  salt. 

72 


HOW  THE  CORN  CAME 

But  no  farther.  Hunting-parties  that  crossed  into 
Chihuahua  returned  sometimes;  more  often  they 
were  given  to  the  Sun.  —  On  the  tops  of  the  hills 
where  their  god-houses  were,"  explained  the  Corn 
Woman  seeing  that  Dorcas  was  puzzled.  "The 
Sun  was  their  god  to  them.  Every  year  they  gave 
captives  on  the  hills  they  built  to  the  Sun." 

Dorcas  had  heard  the  guard  explaining  to  visit 
ors  in  the  Aztec  room.  "Teocales,"  she  suggested. 

"That  was  one  of  their  words,"  agreed  the  Corn 
Woman.  "They  called  themselves  Children  of  the 
Sun.  This  much  we  knew;  that  there  was  a  Seed. 
The  People  of  the  Cliffs,  who  came  to  the  edge  of 
the  Windswept  Plain  to  trade,  would  give  us  cakes 
sometimes  for  dried  buffalo  tongues.  This  we 
understood  was  mahiz,  but  it  was  not  until  Given- 
to-the-Sun  came  to  us  that  we  thought  of  having  it 
for  ours.  Our  men  were  hunters.  They  thought 
it  shame  to  dig  in  the  ground. 

"Shungakela,  of  the  Three  Feather  band,  found 
her  at  the  fork  of  the  Turtle  River,  half  starved  and 
as  fierce  as  she  was  hungry,  but  he  called  her '  Waits- 
by-the-Fire'  when  he  brought  her  back  to  his  tipi, 
and  it  was  a  long  time  before  we  knew  that  she  had 
any  other  name.  She  belonged  to  one  of  the  moun 
tain  tribes  whose  villages  were  raided  by  the  People 
of  the  Sun,  and  because  she  had  been  a  child  at  the 
time,  she  was  made  a  servant.  But  in  the  end,  when 
she  had  shot  up  like  a  red  lily  and  her  mistress  had 

73 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

grown  fond  of  her,  she  was  taken  by  the  priests  of 
the  Sun. 

"At  first  the  girl  did  not  know  what  to  make  of 
being  dressed  so  handsomely  and  fed  upon  the  best 
of  everything,  but  when  they  painted  her  with  the 
sign  of  the  Sun  she  knew.  Over  her  heart  they 
painted  it.  Then  they  put  about  her  neck  the  Eye 
of  the  Sun,  and  the  same  day  the  woman  who  had 
been  her  mistress  and  was  fond  of  her,  slipped  her 
a  seed  which  she  said  should  be  eaten  as  she  went 
up  the  Hill  of  the  Sun,  so  she  would  feel  nothing. 
Given-to-the-Sun  hid  it  in  her  bosom. 

"  There  was  a  custom  that,  in  the  last  days,  those 
who  were  to  go  up  the  Hill  of  the  Sun  could  have 
anything  they  asked  for.  So  the  girl  asked  to  walk 
by  the  river  and  hear  the  birds  sing.  When  they 
had  walked  out  of  sight  of  the  Stone  Houses,  she 
gave  her  watchers  the  seed  in  their  food  and  floated 
down  the  river  on  a  piece  of  bark  until  she  came 
ashore  in  the  thick  woods  and  escaped.  She  came 
north,  avoiding  the  trails,  and  after  a  year  Shunga- 
kela  found  her.  Between  her  breasts  there  was  the 
sign  of  the  Sun." 

The  Corn  Woman  stooped  and  traced  in  the  dust 
the  ancient  sign  of  the  intertwined  four  corners  of 
the  Earth  with  the  Sun  in  the  middle.  "Around 
her  neck  in  a  buckskin  bag  was  the  charm  that  is 
known  as  the  Eye  of  the  Sun.  She  never  showed  it 
to  any  of  us,  but  when  she  was  in  trouble  or  doubt, 

74 


HOW  THE  CORN  CAME 
she  would  put  her  hand  over  it.   It  was  her  Medi 


cine." 


"It  was  good  Medicine,  too,"  spoke  up  the 
oldest  of  the  dancing  women. 

"We  had  need  of  it,"  agreed  the  Corn  Woman. 
"In  those  days  the  Earth  was  too  full  of  people. 
The  tribes  swarmed,  new  chiefs  arose,  kin  hunted 
against  kin.  Many  hunters  made  the  game  shy, 
and  it  removed  to  new  pastures.  Strong  people 
drove  out  weaker  and  took  away  their  hunting- 
grounds.  We  had  our  share  of  both  fighting  and 
starving,  but  our  tribe  fared  better  than  most  be 
cause  of  the  Medicine  of  Waits-by-the-Fire,  the 
Medicine  of  the  Sun.  She  was  a  wise  woman.  She 
was  made  Shaman.  When  she  spoke,  even  the 
chiefs  listened.  But  what  could  the  chiefs  do  except 
hunt  farther  and  fight  harder?  So  Waits-by-the- 
Fire  talked  to  the  women.  She  talked  of  corn, 
how  it  was  planted  and  harvested,  with  what  rites 
and  festivals. 

"  There  was  a  God  of  the  Seed,  a  woman  god  who 
was  served  by  women.  When  the  women  of  our 
tribe  heard  that,  they  took  heart.  The  men  had 
been  afraid  that  the  God  of  the  Corn  would  not 
be  friendly  to  us.  I  think,  too,  they  did  not  like 
the  idea  of  leaving  off  the  long  season  of  hunting 
and  roving,  for  corn  is  a  town-maker.  For  the 
tending  and  harvesting  there  must  be  one  place, 
and  for  the  guarding  of  the  winter  stores  there  must 

75 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

be  a  safe  place.  So  said  Waits-by-the-Fire  to  the 
women  digging  roots  or  boiling  old  bones  in  the 
long  winter.  She  was  a  wise  woman. 

"It  was  the  fight  we  had  with  the  Tenasas  that 
decided  us.  That  was  a  year  of  great  scarcity  and 
the  Tenasas  took  to  sending  their  young  men,  two 
or  three  at  a  time,  creeping  into  our  hunting- 
grounds  to  start  the  game,  and  turn  it  in  the 
direction  of  their  own  country.  When  our  young 
men  were  sure  of  this,  they  went  in  force  and  killed 
inside  the  borders  of  the  Tenasas.  They  had  sur 
prised  a  herd  of  buffaloes  at  Two  Kettle  Licks  and 
were  cutting  up  the  meat  when  the  Tenasas  fell 
upon  them.  Waits-by-the-Fire  lost  her  last  son 
by  that  battle.  One  she  had  lost  in  the  fight  at 
Red  Buttes  and  one  in  a  year  of  Hunger  while  he 
was  little.  This  one  was  swift  of  foot  and  was 
called  Last  Arrow,  for  Shungakela  had  said,  *  Once 
I  had  a  quiver  full.'  Waits-by-the-Fire  brought 
him  back  on  her  shoulders  from  the  place  where  the 
fight  was.  She  walked  with  him  into  the  Council. 

'"The  quiver  is  empty,'  she  said;  'the  food  bags, 
also;  will  you  wait  for  us  to  fill  one  again  before 
you  fill  the  other?' 

"Mad  Wolf,  who  was  chief  at  the  time,  threw 
up  his  hand  as  a  man  does  when  he  is  down  and 
craves  a  mercy  he  is  too  proud  to  ask  for.  'We 
have  fought  the  Tenasas,'  he  said;  'shall  we  fight 
our  women  also?' 

76 


HOW  THE  CORN  CAME 

"Waits-by-the-Fire  did  not  wait  after  that  for 
long  speeches  in  the  Council.  She  gathered  her 
company  quickly,  seven  women  well  seasoned  and 
not  comely,  —  'The  God  of  the  Corn  is  a  woman 
god,'  she  said,  sharp  smiling,  —  and  seven  men,  keen 
and  hard  runners.  The  rest  she  appointed  to  meet 
her  at  Painted  Rock  ten  moons  from  their  going." 

"  So  long  as  that ! "  said  Dorcas  Jane.  "  Was  it  so 
far  from  where  you  lived  to  Mex —  to  the  Country 
of  Stone  Houses?" 

"  Not  so  far,  but  they  had  to  stay  from  planting 
to  harvest.  Of  what  use  was  the  seed  without 
knowledge.  Traveling  hard  they  crossed  the  River 
of  the  White  Rocks  and  reached,  by  the  end  of  that 
moon,  the  mountain  overlooking  the  Country  of 
Stone  Houses.  Here  the  men  stayed.  Waits-by-the- 
Fire  arranged  everything.  She  thought  the  people 
of  the  towns  might  hesitate  to  admit  so  many  men 
strangers.  Also  she  had  the  women  put  on  worn 
moccasins  with  holes,  and  old  food  from  the  year 
before  in  their  food  bags." 

"I  should  think,"  began  Dorcas  Jane,  "they 
would  have  wanted  to  put  on  the  best  they  had  to 
make  a  good  impression." 

"She  was  a  wise  woman,"  said  the  Corn  Wo 
man;  "she  said  that  if  they  came  from  near,  the 
people  of  the  towns  might  take  them  for  spies,  but 
they  would  not  fear  travelers  from  so  far  off  that 
their  moccasins  had  holes  in  them." 

77 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

The  Corn  Woman  had  forgotten  that  she  was  tell 
ing  a  story  older  than  the  oaks  they  sat  under. 
When  she  came  to  the  exciting  parts  she  said  "we" 
and  "us"  as  though  it  were  something  that  had 
happened  to  them  all  yesterday. 

"It  was  a  high  white  range  that  looked  on  the 
Country  of  Stone  Houses,"  she  said,  "with  peaks 
that  glittered,  dropping  down  ridge  by  ridge  to 
where  the  trees  left  off  at  the  edge  of  a  wide,  basket- 
colored  valley.  It  hollowed  like  a  meal  basket  and 
had  a  green  pattern  woven  through  it  by  a  river. 
Shungakela  went  with  the  women  to  the  foot  of  the 
mountain,  and  then,  all  at  once,  he  would  not  let 
them  go  until  Waits-by-the-Fire  promised  to  come 
back  to  the  foot  of  the  mountain  once  in  every  moon 
to  tell  him  how  things  went  with  us.  We  thought 
it  very  childish  of  him,  but  afterward  we  were  glad 
we  had  not  made  any  objection. 

"It  was  mid-morning  when  the  Seven  walked 
between  the  fields,  with  little  food  in  their  bags  and 
none  whatever  in  their  stomachs,  all  in  rags  except 
Waits-by-the-Fire,  who  had  put  on  her  Shaman's 
dress,  and  around  her  neck,  tied  in  a  bag  with 
feathers,  the  Medicine  of  the  Sun.  People  stood  up 
in  the  fields  to  stare,  and  we  would  have  stared 
back  again,  but  we  were  afraid.  Behind  the  stone 
house  we  saw  the  Hill  of  the  Sun  and  the  priests 
moving  up  and  down  as  Waits-by-the-Fire  had 
described  it. 

78 


HOW  THE  CORN  CAME 

"Below  the  hill,  where  the  ground  was  made 
high,  at  one  side  of  the  steps  that  went  up  to  the 
Place  of  Giving,  stood  the  house  of  the  Corn  God 
dess,  which  was  served  by  women.  There  the  Seven 
laid  up  their  offering  of  poor  food  before  the  altar 
and  stood  on  the  steps  of  the  god-house  until  the 
head  priestess  noticed  them.  Wisps  of  incense 
smoke  floated  out  of  the  carved  doorways  and  the 
drone  of  the  priestess  like  bees  in  a  hollow  log. 
All  the  people  came  out  on  their  flat  roofs  to 
watch  —  Did  I  say  that  they  had  two  and  even 
three  houses,  one  on  top  of  the  other,  each  one 
smaller  than  the  others,  and  ladders  that  went  up 
and  down  to  them?  —  They  stood  on  the  roofs 
and  gathered  in  the  open  square  between  the 
houses  as  still  and  as  curious  as  antelopes,  and  at 
last  the  priestess  of  the  Corn  came  out  and  spoke 
to  us.  Talk  went  on  between  her  and  Waits-by- 
the-Fire,  purring,  spitting  talk  like  water  stum 
bling  among  stones.  Not  one  word  did  our  women 
understand,  but  they  saw  wonder  grow  among  the 
Corn  Women,  respect  and  amazement. 

"  Finally,  we  were  taken  into  the  god-house,  where 
in  the  half  dark,  we  could  make  out  the  Goddess 
of  the  Corn,  cut  in  stone,  with  green  stones  on  her 
forehead.  There  were  long  councils  between  Waits- 
by-the-Fire  and  the  Corn  Woman  and  the  priests 
that  came  running  from  the  Temple  of  the  Sun. 
Outside  the  rumor  and  the  wonder  swelled  around 

79 


,THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

the  god-house  like  a  sudden  flood.  Faces  bobbed 
up  like  rubbish  in  the  flood  into  the  bright  blocks 
of  light  that  fell  through  the  doorway,  and  were 
shifted  and  shunted  by  other  faces  peering  in. 
After  a  long  time  the  note  of  wonder  outside  changed 
to  a  deep,  busy  hum;  the  crowd  separated  and  let 
through  women  bearing  food  in  pots  and  baskets. 
Then  we  knew  that  Waits-by-the-Fire  had  won." 

"But what?"  insisted  Dorcas;  "what was  it  that 
she  had  told  them?" 

"That  she  had  had  a  dream  which  was  sent  by 
the  Corn  Spirit  and  that  she  and  those  with  her  were 
under  a  vow  to  serve  the  Corn  for  the  space  of  one 
growing  year.  And  to  prove  that  her  dream  was 
true  the  Goddess  of  the  Corn  had  revealed  to  her 
the  speech  of  the  Stone  House  tribe  and  also  many 
hidden  things.  These  were  things  which  she  re 
membered  from  her  captivity  which  she  told  them." 

"What  sort  of  things?" 

"Why,  that  in  such  a  year  they  had  had  a  pesti 
lence  and  that  the  father  of  the  Corn  Woman  had 
died  of  eating  over-ripe  melons.  The  Corn  Women 
were  greatly  impressed.  But  she  carried  it  almost 
too  far  ...  perhaps  .  .  .  and  perhaps  it  was  ap 
pointed  from  the  beginning  that  that  was  the  way 
the  Corn  was  to  come.  It  was  while  we  were  eating 
that  we  realized  how  wise  she  was  to  make  us  come 
fasting,  for  first  the  people  pitied  us,  and  then  they 
were  pleased  with  themselves  for  making  us  com- 

80 


HOW  THE  CORN  CAME 

fortable.  But  in  the  middle  of  it  there  was  a  great 
stir  and  a  man  in  chief's  dress  came  pushing  through. 
He  was  the  Cacique  of  the  Sun  and  he  was  vexed 
because  he  had  not  been  called  earlier.  He  was 
that  kind  of  a  man. 

"He  spoke  sharply  to  the  Chief  Corn  Woman  to 
know  why  strangers  were  received  within  the  town 
without  his  knowledge. 

" Waits-by-the-Fire  answered  quickly.  'We  are 
guests  of  the  Corn,  0  Cacique,  and  in  my  dream 
I  seem  to  have  heard  of  your  hospitality  to  women 
of  the  Corn.'  You  see  there  had  been  an  old  story 
when  he  was  young,  how  one  of  the  Corn  Maidens 
had  gone  to  his  house  and  had  been  kept  there 
against  her  will,  which  was  a  discredit  to  him.  He 
was  so  astonished  to  hear  the  strange  woman 
speak  of  it  that  he  turned  and  went  out  of  the  god- 
house  without  another  word.  The  people  took  up 
the  incident  and  whispered  it  from  mouth  to  mouth 
to  prove  that  the  strange  Shaman  was  a  great 
prophet.  So  we  were  appointed  a  house  to  live  in 
and  were  permitted  to  serve  the  Corn." 

"But  what  did  you  do?"  Dorcas  insisted  on 
knowing. 

"We  dug  and  planted.  All  this  was  new  to  us. 
When  there  was  no  work  in  the  fields  we  learned 
the  ways  of  cooking  corn,  and  to  make  pots.  Hunt 
ing-tribes  do  not  make  pots.  How  should  we  carry 
them  from  place  to  place  on  our  backs?  We  cooked 

81 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

in  baskets  with  hot  stones,  and  sometimes  when 
the  basket  was  old  we  plastered  it  with  mud  and  set 
it  on  the  fire.  But  the  People  of  the  Corn  made  pots 
of  coiled  clay  and  burned  it  hard  in  the  open  fires 
between  the  houses.  Then  there  was  the  ceremony 
of  the  Corn  to  learn,  the  prayers  and  the  dances. 
Oh,  we  had  work  enough !  And  if  ever  anything  was 
ever  said  or  done  to  us  which  was  not  pleasant, 
Waits-by-the-Fire  would  say  to  the  one  who  had 
offended,  'We  are  only  the  servants  of  the  Corn, 
but  it  would  be  a  pity  if  the  same  thing  happened 
to  you  that  happened  to  the  grandfather  of  your 
next-door  neighbor!' 

"And  what  happened  to  him?  " 

"Oh,  a  plague  of  sores,  a  scolding  wife,"  or  any 
thing  that  she  chanced  to  remember  from  the  time 
she  had  been  Given-to-the-Sun.  That  stopped  them. 
But  most  of  them  held  us  to  be  under  the  protec 
tion  of  the  Corn  Spirit,  and  when  our  Shaman  would 
disappear  for  two  or  three  days  —  that  was  when 
she  went  to  the  mountain  to  visit  Shungakela  — 
we  said  that  she  had  gone  to  pray  to  her  own  gods, 
and  they  accepted  that  also." 

"And  all  this  time  no  one  recognized  her?" 

"She  had  painted  her  face  for  a  Shaman,"  said 
the  Corn  Woman  slowly,  "and  besides  it  was 
nearly  forty  years.  The  woman  who  had  been  kind 
to  her  was  dead  and  there  was  a  new  Priest  of  the 
Sun.  Only  the  one  who  had  painted  her  with  the 


HOW  THE  CORN  CAME 

sign  of  the  Sun  was  left,  and  he  was  doddering." 
She  seemed  about  to  go  on  with  her  story,  but  the 
oldest  dancing  woman  interrupted  her. 

"Those  things  helped,"  said  the  dancing  woman, 
"but  it  was  her  thought  which  hid  her.  She  put 
on  the  thought  of  a  Shaman  as  a  man  puts  on  the 
thought  of  a  deer  or  a  buffalo  when  he  goes  to  look 
for  them.  That  which  one  fears,  that  it  is  which 
betrays  one.  She  was  a  Shaman  in  her  heart  and 
as  a  Shaman  she  appeared  to  them." 

"She  certainly  had  no  fear,"  said  the  Corn 
Woman,  "though  from  the  first  she  must  have 
known  — 

"It  was  when  the  seed  corn  was  gathered  that 
we  had  the  first  hint  of  trouble,"  she  went  on. 
"When  it  was  ripe  the  priests  and  Caciques  went 
into  the  fields  to  select  the  seed  for  next  year.  Then 
it  was  laid  up  in  the  god-houses  for  the  priestess 
of  the  Corn  to  keep.  That  was  in  case  of  an  enemy 
or  a  famine  when  the  people  might  be  tempted  to 
eat  it.  After  it  was  once  taken  charge  of  by  the 
priestess  of  the  Corn  they  would  have  died  rather 
than  give  it  up.  Our  women  did  not  know  how  they 
should  get  the  seed  to  bring  away  from  the  Stone 
House  except  to  ask  for  it  as  the  price  of  their  year's 
labor." 

"But  could  n't  you  have  just  taken  some  from 
the  field?"  inquired  Dorcas.  "Wouldn't  it  have 
grown  just  the  same?" 

83 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

"That  we  were  not  sure  of;  and  we  were  afraid 
to  take  it  without  the  good-will  of  the  Corn  Goddess. 
Centeotli  her  name  was.  Waits-by-the-Fire  made 
up  her  mind  to  ask  for  it  on  the  first  day  of  the 
Feast  of  the  Corn  Harvest,  which  lasts  four  days, 
and  is  a  time  of  present-giving  and  good-willing. 
She  would  have  got  it,  too,  if  it  had  been  left  to  the 
Corn  Women  to  decide.  But  the  Cacique  of  the 
Sun,  who  was  always  watching  out  for  a  chance 
to  make  himself  important,  insisted  that  it  was 
a  grave  matter  and  should  be  taken  to  Council. 
He  had  never  forgiven  the  Shaman,  you  see,  for 
that  old  story  about  the  Corn  Maiden. 

"As  soon  as  the  townspeople  found  that  the 
Caciques  were  considering  whether  it  was  proper 
to  give  seed  corn  to  the  strangers,  they  began  to 
consider  it,  too,  turning  it  over  in  their  minds  to 
gether  with  a  great  many  things  that  had  nothing 
to  do  with  it.  There  had  been  smut  in  the  corn  that 
year;  there  was  a  little  every  year,  but  this  season 
there  was  more  of  it,  and  a  good  many  of  the  bean 
pods  had  not  filled  out.  I  forgot,"  said  the  Corn 
Woman,  "to  speak  of  the  beans  and  squashes. 
They  were  the  younger  sisters  of  the  corn;  they 
grew  with  the  corn  and  twined  about  it.  Now,  every 
man  who  was  a  handful  or  two  short  of  his  crop 
began  to  look  at  us  doubtfully.  Then  they  would 
crowd  around  the  Cacique  of  the  Sun  to  argue  the 
matter.  They  remembered  how  our  Shaman  had 

84 


HOW  THE  CORN  CAME 

gone  apart  to  pray  to  her  own  gods  and  they  thought 
the  Spirit  of  the  Corn  might  have  been  offended. 
And  the  Cacique  would  inquire  of  every  one  who 
had  a  toothache  or  any  such  matter,  in  such  a  way 
as  to  make  them  think  of  it  in  connection  with  the 
Shaman.  —  In  every  village,"  the  Corn  Woman 
interrupted  herself  to  say,  "there  is  evil  enough, 
if  laid  at  the  door  of  one  person,  to  get  her  burned 
for  a  witch!" 

"Was  she?"  Dorcas  Jane  squirmed  with  anx 
iety. 

"  She  was  standing  on  the  steps  at  the  foot  of  the 
Hill  of  the  Sun,  the  last  we  saw  of  her,"  said  the 
Corn  Woman.  "Of  course,  our  women,  not  under 
standing  the  speech  of  the  Stone  Houses,  did  not 
know  exactly  what  was  going  on,  but  they  felt  the 
changed  looks  of  the  people.  They  thought,  per 
haps,  they  could  steal  away  from  the  town  unno 
ticed.  Two  of  them  hid  in  their  clothing  as  much 
Seed  as  they  could  lay  hands  on  and  went  down 
toward  the  river.  They  were  watched  and  followed. 
So  they  came  back  to  the  house  where  Waits-by-the- 
Fire  prayed  daily  with  her  hand  on  the  Medicine 
of  the  Sun. 

"So  came  the  last  day  of  the  feast  when  the 
sacred  seed  would  be  sealed  up  in  the  god-house. 
'Have  no  fear,'  said  Waits-by-the-Fire,  'for  my 
dream  has  been  good.  Make  yourselves  ready  for 
the  trail.  Take  food  in  your  food  bags  and  your 

85 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

carriers  empty  on  your  backs.'  She  put  on  her 
Shaman's  dress  and  about  the  middle  of  the  day 
the  Cacique  of  the  Sun  sent  for  them.  He  was  on 
the  platform  in  front  of  the  god-house  where  the 
steps  go  up  to  the  Hill  of  the  Sun,  and  the  elders 
of  the  town  were  behind  him.  Priests  of  the  Sun 
stood  on  the  steps  and  the  Corn  Women  came  out 
from  the  temple  of  the  Corn.  As  Waits-by-the- 
Fire  went  up  with  the  Seven,  the  people  closed  in 
solidly  behind  them.  The  Cacique  looked  at  the 
carriers  on  their  backs  and  frowned. 

"'Why  do  you  come  to  the  god-house  with  bas 
kets,  like  laborers  of  the  fields?'  he  demanded. 

"'For  the  price  of  our  labor,  0  Cacique,'  said 
the  Shaman.  'The  gods  are  not  so  poor  that  they 
accept  labor  for  nothing.' 

'"Now,  it  is  come  into  my  heart,'  said  the 
Cacique  sourly,  'that  the  gods  are  not  always 
pleased  to  be  served  by  strangers.  There  are  signs 
that  this  is  so.' 

"'It  may  be,'  said  Waits-by-the-Fire,  'that  the 
gods  are  not  pleased.  They  have  long  memories.' 
She  looked  at  him  very  straight  and  somebody  in 
the  crowd  snickered." 

"But  wasn't  it  awfully  risky  to  keep  making 
him  mad  like  that?"  asked  Dorcas.  "They  could 
have  just  done  anything  to  her!" 

"She  was  a  wise  woman;  she  knew  what  she  had 
to  do.  The  Cacique  was  angry.  He  began  making 


HOW  THE  CORN  CAME 

a  long  speech  at  her,  about  how  the  smut  had  come 
in  the  corn  and  the  bean  crop  was  a  failure,  — 
but  that  was  because  there  had  not  been  water 
enough,  —  and  how  there  had  been  sickness.  And 
when  Waits-by-the-Fire  asked  him  if  it  were  only 
in  that  year  they  had  misfortune,  the  people 
thought  she  was  trying  to  prove  that  she  had  n't 
had  anything  to  do  with  it.  She  kept  reminding 
them  of  things  that  had  happened  the  year  before, 
and  the  year  before.  The  Cacique  kept  growing 
more  and  more  angry,  admitting  everything  she 
said,  until  it  showed  plainly  that  the  town  had  had 
about  forty  years  of  bad  luck,  which  the  Cacique 
tried  to  prove  was  all  because  the  gods  had  known 
in  advance  that  they  were  going  to  be  foolish  and 
let  strangers  in  to  serve  the  Corn.  At  first  the  people 
grew  excited  and  came  crowding  against  the  edge 
of  the  platform,  shouting, '  Kill  her  1  Kill  the  witch ! ' 
as  one  and  then  another  of  their  past  misfortunes 
were  recalled  to  them. 

"  But,  as  the  Shaman  kept  on  prodding  the  Ca 
cique,  as  hunters  stir  up  a  bear  before  killing  him, 
they  began  to  see  that  there  was  something  more 
coming,  and  they  stood  still,  packed  solidly  in  the 
square  to  listen.  On  all  the  housetops  roundabout 
the  women  and  the  children  were  as  still  as  images. 
A  young  priest  from  the  steps  of  the  Hill,  who 
thought  he  must  back  up  the  Cacique,  threw  up 
his  arms  and  shouted,  'Give  her  to  the  Sun!'  and  a 

87 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

kind  of  quiver  went  over  the  people  like  the  shiver 
of  still  water  when  the  wind  smites  it.  It  was  only 
at  the  time  of  the  New  Fire,  between  harvest  and 
planting,  that  they  give  to  the  Sun,  or  in  great 
times  of  war  or  pestilence.  Waits-by-the-Fire 
moved  out  to  the  edge  of  the  platform. 

"'It  is  not,  O  People  of  the  Sun,  for  what  is 
given,  that  the  gods  grow  angry,  but  for  what  is 
withheld,'  she  said.  '  Is  there  nothing,  priests  of  the 
Sun,  which  was  given  to  the  Sun  and  let  go  again? 
Think,  0  priests.  Nothing?' 

"The  priests,  huddled  on  the  stairs,  began  to 
question  among  themselves,  and  Waits-by-the- 
Fire  turned  to  the  people.  'Nothing,  0  Offspring 
of  the  Sun?' 

"Then  she  put  off  the  Shaman's  thought  which 
had  been  a  shield  to  her.  'Nothing,  Toto?'  she 
called  to  a  man  in  the  crowd  by  a  name  none 
knew  him  by  except  those  that  had  grown  up  with 
him.  She  was  Given-to-the-Sun,  and  she  stood 
by  the  carved  stone  corn  of  the  god-house  and 
laughed  at  them,  shuffling  and  shouldering  like 
buffaloes  in  the  stamping-ground,  and  not  know 
ing  what  to  think.  Voices  began  to  call  for  the  man 
she  had  spoken  to,  'Toto,  0  Toto!' 

"The  crowd  swarmed  upon  itself,  parted  and 
gave  up  the  figure  of  the  ancient  Priest  of  the  Sun, 
for  they  remembered  in  his  day  how  a  girl  who  was 
given  to  the  Sun  had  been  snatched  away  by  the 

88 


HOW  THE  CORN  CAME 

gods  out  of  sight  of  the  people.  They  pushed  him 
forward,  doddering  and  peering.  They  saw  the 
woman  put  back  her  Shaman's  bonnet  from  her 
head,  and  the  old  priest  clap  his  hand  to  his  mouth 
like  one  suddenly  astonished. 

"Over  the  Cacique's  face  came  a  cold  glint  like 
the  coming  of  ice  on  water.  'You,'  he  said,  'you 
are  Given-to-the-Sun?'  And  he  made  a  gesture 
to  the  guard  to  close  in  on  her. 

"'Given-to-the-Sun,'  she  said.  'Take  care  how 
you  touch  that  which  belongs  to  the  gods,  0 
Cacique!' 

"And  though  he  still  smiled,  he  took  a  step 
backward. 

"'So,'  he  said,  'you  are  that  woman  and  this  is 
the  meaning  of  those  prophecies  I' 

"'I  am  that  woman  and  that  prophet,'  she  said 
with  her  hand  at  her  throat  and  looked  from  priests 
to  people.  '  0  People  of  the  Sun,  I  have  heard  you 
have  a  charm, '  she  said,  —  *  a  Medicine  of  the 
Sun  called  the  Eye  of  the  Sun,  strong  Medicine.7 

"  No  one  answered  for  a  while,  but  they  began 
to  murmur  among  themselves,  and  at  last  one 
shouted  that  they  had  such  a  charm,  but  it  was 
not  for  witches  or  for  runaway  slave  women. 

'"You  had  such  a  charm,'  she  said,  for  she  knew 
well  enough  that  the  sacred  charm  was  kept  in  the 
god-house  and  never  shown  to  the  people  except 
on  very  great  occasions.  She  was  sure  that  the 

89 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

priests  had  never  dared  to  tell  the  people  that  their 
Sacred  Stone  had  disappeared  with  the  escaped 
captive. 

"  Given-to-the-Sun  took  the  Medicine  bag  from 
her  neck  and  swung  it  in  her  fingers.  l Had!'  she 
said  mockingly.  The  people  gave  a  growl;  another 
time  they  would  have  been  furious  with  fright  and 
anger,  but  they  did  not  wish  to  miss  a  syllable  of 
what  was  about  to  happen.  The  priests  whispered 
angrily  with  the  guard,  but  Given-to-the-Sun  did 
not  care  what  the  priests  did  so  long  as  she  had  the 
people.  She  signed  to  the  Seven,  and  they  came 
huddling  to  her  like  quail;  she  put  them  behind 
her. 

"'Is  it  not  true,  Children  of  the  Sun,  that  the 
favor  of  the  Sun  goes  with  the  Eye  of  the  Sun  and 
it  will  come  back  to  you  when  the  Stone  comes 
back?' 

"They  muttered  and  said  that  it  was  so. 

"'Then,  will  your  priests  show  you  the  Eye  of 
the  Sun  or  shall  I  show  you?' 

"There  was  a  shout  raised  at  that,  and  some 
called  to  the  priests  to  show  the  Stone,  and  others 
that  the  woman  would  bring  trouble  on  them  all 
with  her  offenses.  But  by  this  time  they  knew  very 
well  where  the  Stone  was,  and  the  priests  were  too 
astonished  to  think  of  anything.  Slowly  the 
Shaman  drew  it  out  of  the  Medicine  bag  — 

The  Corn  Woman  waited  until  one  of  the  women 

90 


HOW  THE  CORN  CAME 

handed  her  the  sacred  bundle  from  the  neck  of 
the  Corn  image.  Out  of  it,  after  a  little  rummaging, 
she  produced  a  clear  crystal  of  quartz  about  the 
size  of  a  pigeon's  egg.  It  gave  back  the  rays  of  the 
Sun  in  a  dazzle  that,  to  any  one  who  had  never 
seen  a  diamond,  would  have  seemed  wonderfully 
brilliant.  Where  it  lay  in  the  Corn  Woman's  hand 
it  scattered  little  flecks  of  reflected  light  in  rainbow 
splashes.  The  Indian  women  made  the  sign  of  the 
Sun  on  their  foreheads  and  Dorcas  felt  a  prickle 
of  solemnity  along  the  back  of  her  neck  as  she 
looked  at  it.  Nobody  spoke  until  it  was  back  again 
in  the  Medicine  bundle. 

"  Given-to-the-Sun  held  it  up  to  them,"  the 
story  went  on,  "and  there  was  a  noise  in  the 
square  like  a  noise  of  the  stamping-ground  at 
twilight.  Some  bellowed  one  thing  and  some  an 
other,  and  at  last  a  priest  of  the  Sun  moved  sharply 
and  spoke  :- 

'"The  Eye  of  the  Sun  is  not  for  the  eyes  of  the 
vulgar.  Will  you  let  this  false  Shaman  impose  on 
you,  0  Children  of  the  Sun,  with  a  common  pebble? ' 

"Given-to-the-Sun  stooped  and  picked  up  a 
mealing-stone  that  was  used  for  grinding  the  sacred 
meal  in  the  temple  of  the  Corn. 

"'If  your  Stone  is  in  the  temple  and  this  is  a 
common  pebble,'  said  she,  'it  does  not  matter 
what  I  do  with  it.'  And  she  seemed  about  to  crush 
it  on  the  top  of  the  stone  balustrade  at  the  edge  of 

91 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

the  platform.  The  people  groaned.  They  knew 
very  well  that  this  was  their  Sacred  Stone  and  that 
the  priests  had  deceived  them.  Given-to-the-Sun 
stood  resting  one  stone  upon  the  other. 

"'The  Sun  has  been  angry  with  you,'  she  said, 
'but  the  Goddess  of  the  Corn  saves  you.  She  has 
brought  back  the  Stone  and  the  Sacrifice.  Do  not 
show  yourselves  ungrateful  to  the  Corn  by  denying 
her  servants  their  wages.  What!  will  you  have  all 
the  gods  against  you?  Priestess  of  the  Corn,'  she 
called  toward  the  temple,  'do  you  also  mislead  the 
people?' 

"At  that  the  Corn  Women  came  hurrying,  for 
they  saw  that  the  people  were  both  frightened  and 
angry;  they  brought  armsful  of  corn  and  seeds  for 
the  carriers,  they  took  bracelets  from  their  arms  and 
put  them  for  gifts  in  the  baskets.  The  priests  of 
the  Sun  did  not  say  anything.  One  of  the  women's 
headbands  slipped  and  the  basket  swung  sideways. 
Given-to-the-Sun  whipped  off  her  belt  and  tucked 
it  under  the  basket  rim  to  make  it  ride  more  evenly. 
The  woman  felt  something  hard  in  the  belt  pressing 
her  shoulder,  but  she  knew  better  than  to  say 
anything.  In  silence  the  crowd  parted  and  let  the 
Seven  pass.  They  went  swiftly  with  their  eyes  on 
the  ground  by  the  north  gate  to  the  mountain. 
The  priests  of  the  Sun  stood  still  on  the  steps  of 
the  Hill  of  the  Sun  and  their  eyes  glittered.  The 
Sacrifice  of  the  Sun  had  come  back  to  them. 

92 


HOW  THE  CORN  CAME 

"When  our  women  passed  the  gate,  the  crowd 
saw  Given-to-the-Sun  restore  what  was  in  her  hand 
to  the  Medicine  bag;  she  lifted  her  arms  above  her 
head  and  began  the  prayer  to  the  Sun." 

"I  see,"  said  Dorcas  after  a  long  pause;  "she 
stayed  to  keep  the  People  of  the  Sun  pacified  while 
the  women  got  away  with  the  seed.  That  was 
splendid.  But,  the  Eye  of  the  Sun,  I  thought  you 
saw  her  put  that  in  the  buckskin  bag  again?" 

"  She  must  have  had  ready  another  stone  of  shape 
and  size  like  it,"  said  the  Corn  Woman.  "She 
thought  of  everything.  She  was  a  wise  woman,  and 
so  long  as  she  was  called  Given-to-the-Sun  the  Eye 
of  the  Sun  was  hers  to  give.  Shungakela  was  not 
surprised  to  find  that  his  wife  had  stayed  at  the 
Hill  of  the  Sun;  so  I  suppose  she  must  have  told 
him.  He  asked  if  there  was  a  token,  and  the  woman 
whose  basket  she  had  propped  with  her  girdle  gave 
it  to  him  with  the  hard  lump  that  pressed  her  shoul 
der.  So  the  Medicine  of  the  Sun  came  back  to  us. 

"  Our  men  had  met  the  women  at  the  foot  of  the 
mountain  and  they  fled  all  that  day  to  a  safe  place 
the  men  had  made  for  them.  It  was  for  that  they 
had  stayed,  to  prepare  food  for  flight,  and  safe 
places  for  hiding  in  case  they  were  followed.  If  the 
pursuit  pressed  too  hard,  the  men  were  to  stay 
and  fight  while  the  women  escaped  with  the  corn. 
That  was  how  Given-to-the-Sun  arranged  it. 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

"Next  day  as  we  climbed,  we  saw  smoke  rising 
from  the  Hill  of  the  Sun,  and  Shungakela  went 
apart  on  the  mountain,  saying,  'Let  me  alone,  for 
I  make  a  fire  to  light  the  feet  of  my  wife's  spirit. . . .' 
They  had  been  married  twenty  years. 

"We  found  the  tribe  at  Painted  Rock,  but  we 
thought  it  safer  to  come  on  east  beyond  the  Staked 
Plains  as  Given-to-the-Sun  had  advised  us.  At 
Red  River  we  stopped  for  a  whole  season  to  plant 
corn.  But  there  was  not  rain  enough  there,  and  if  we 
left  off  watching  the  fields  for  a  day  the  buffaloes 
came  and  cropped  them.  So  for  the  sake  of  the 
corn  we  came  still  north  and  made  friends  with 
the  Tenasas.  We  bought  help  of  them  with  the  half 
of  our  seed,  and  they  brought  us  over  the  river, 
the  Missi-Sippu,  the  Father  of  all  Rivers.  The 
Tenasas  had  boats,  round  like  baskets,  covered  with 
buffalo  hide,  and  they  floated  us  over,  two  swim 
mers  to  every  boat  to  keep  us  from  drifting  down 
stream. 

"Here  we  made  a  town  and  a  god-house,  to 
keep  the  corn  contented.  Every  year  when  the 
seed  is  gathered  seven  ears  are  laid  up  in  the  god- 
house  in  memory  of  the  Seven,  and  for  the  seed 
which  must  be  kept  for  next  year's  crop  there  are 
seven  watchers"  -  the  Corn  Woman  included  the 
dancers  and  herself  in  a  gesture  of  pride.  "We  are 
the  keepers  of  the  Seed,"  she  said,  "and  no  man  of 
the  tribe  knows  where  it  is  hidden.  For  no  matter 

94 


HOW  THE  CORN  CAME 

how  hungry  the  people  may  become  the  seed  corn 
must  not  be  eaten.  But  with  us  there  is  never  any 
hunger,  for  every  year  from  planting  time  till  the 
green  corn  is  ready  for  picking,  we  keep  all  the 
ceremonies  of  the  corn,  so  that  our  cribs  are  filled 
to  bursting.  Look!" 

The  Corn  Woman  stood  up  and  the  dancers  get 
ting  up  with  her  shook  the  rattles  of  their  leggings 
with  a  sound  very  like  the  noise  a  radiator  makes 
when  some  one  is  hammering  on  the  other  end  of 
it.  And  when  Dorcas  turned  to  look  for  the  Indian 
cribs  there  was  nothing  there  but  the  familiar  wall 
cases  and  her  father  mending  the  steam  heater. 


SIGN  OF  THE  SUN  AND  THE  FOUR  QUARTERS 


VII 

A  TELLING  OF  THE  SALT  TRAIL,  OF  TSE-TSE-YOTE  AND 
THE  DELIGHT-MAKERS;  TOLD  BY  MOKE-ICHA 

OLIVER  was  so  interested  in  his  sister's  account  of 
how  the  corn  came  into  the  country,  that  that  very 
evening  he  dragged  out  a  tattered  old  atlas  which 
he  had  rescued  from  the  Museum  waste,  and  began 
to  look  for  the  places  named  by  the  Corn  Woman. 
They  found  the  old  Chihuahua  Trail  sagging  south 
across  the  Rio  Grande,  which,  on  the  atlas  map, 
carried  its  ancient  name  of  River  of  the  White 
Rocks.  Then  they  found  the  Red  River,  but  there 
was  no  trace  of  the  Tenasas,  unless  it  might  be,  as 
they  suspected  from  the  sound,  in  the  Country  of 
the  Tennessee.  It  was  all  very  disappointing. 
"  I  suppose,"  suggested  Dorcas  Jane,  "they  don't 

96 


THE  DELIGHT-MAKERS 

put  down  the  interesting  places.  It's  only  the  ones 
that  are  too  dull  to  be  remembered  that  have  to  be 
printed." 

Oliver,  who  did  not  believe  this  was  quite  the 
principle  on  which  atlases  were  constructed,  had 
made  a  discovery.  Close  to  the  Rio  Grande,  and 
not  far  from  the  point  where  the  Chihuahua  Trail 
crossed  it,  there  was  a  cluster  of  triangular  dots, 
marked  Cliff  Dwellings.  "There  was  corn  there," 
he  insisted.  ;<You  can  see  it  in  the  wall  cases,  and 
Cliff  Dwellings  are  the  oldest  old  places  in  the 
United  States.  If  they  were  here  when  the  Corn 
Woman  passed,  I  don't  see  why  she  had  to  go  to  the 
Stone  Houses  for  seed."  And  when  they  had  talked 
it  over  they  decided  to  go  that  very  night  and  ask 
the  Buffalo  Chief  about  it. 

"There  was  always  corn,  as  I  remember  it," 
said  the  old  bull,  "growing  tall  about  the  tipis. 
But  touching  the  People  of  the  Cliffs  —  that  would 
be  Moke-icha's  story." 

The  great  yellow  cat  came  slipping  out  from  the 
over-weighted  thickets  of  wild  plum,  and  settled 
herself  on  her  boulder  with  a  bound.  Stretching 
forth  one  of  her  steel-tipped  pads  toward  the  south 
she  seemed  to  draw  the  purple  distance  as  one 
draws  a  lady  by  her  scarf.  The  thin  lilac-tinted 
haze  parted  on  the  gorge  of  the  Rio  Grande,  be 
tween  the  white  ranges.  The  walls  of  the  canon 
were  scored  with  deep  perpendicular  gashes  as 

97 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

though  the  river  had  ripped  its  way  through  them 
with  its  claws.  Yellow  pines  balanced  on  the  edge 
of  the  cliffs,  and  smaller,  tributary  canons,  that 
opened  into  it,  widened  here  and  there  to  let  in 
tall,  solitary  trees,  with  patches  of  sycamore  and 
wild  cherry  and  linked  pools  for  trout. 

"That  was  a  country!"  purred  Moke-icha. 
"What  was  it  you  wished  to  know  about  it?" 

"Ever  so  many  things,"  said  Oliver  promptly — 
"  if  there  were  people  there,  and  if  they  had  corn  —  " 

"Queres  they  were  called,"  said  Moke-icha, 
"and  they  were  already  a  people,  with  corn  of  four 
colors  for  the  four  corners  of  the  earth,  and  many 
kinds  of  beans  and  squashes,  when  they  came  to 
Ty-uonyi." 

"Where  were  they  when  the  Corn  Woman 
passed?  Who  were  the  Blanket  People,  and 
what—" 

"Softly,"  said  Moke-icha.  "Though  I  slept  in 
the  kivas  and  am  called  Kabeyde,  Chief  of  the 
Four-Footed,  I  did  not  know  all  the  tales  of  the 
Queres.  They  were  a  very  ancient  people.  On  the 
Salt  Trail,  where  it  passed  by  Split  Rock,  the  trail 
was  bitten  deep  into  the  granite.  I  think  they  could 
not  have  been  more  than  three  or  four  hundred 
years  in  Ty-uonyi  when  I  knew  them.  They  came 
from  farther  up  the  river  where  they  had  cities 
built  into  the  rock.  And  before  that?  How  should 
I  know?  They  said  they  came  from  a  hole  in  the 

98 


THE  DELIGHT-MAKERS 

ground,  from  Shipapu.  They  traded  to  the  south 
with  salt  which  they  brought  from  the  Crawling 
Water  for  green  stones  and  a  kind  of  white  wool 
which  grew  on  bushes,  from  which  they  made  their 
clothes.  There  were  no  wandering  tribes  about 
except  the  Dine  and  they  were  all  devils." 

"Devils  they  may  have  been,"  said  the  Navajo, 
"but  they  did  not  say  their  prayers  to  a  yellow 
cat,  0  Kabeyde." 

"I  speak  but  as  the  People  of  the  Cliffs,"  said 
Moke-icha  soothingly.  "If  they  called  the  Dine 
devils,  doubtless  they  had  reason;  and  if  they  made 
prayers  and  images  to  me,  it  was  not  without  a 
reason:  not  without  good  reason."  Her  tail 
bristled  a  little  as  it  curled  at  the  tip  like  a  snake. 
Deep  yellow  glints  swam  at  the  backs  of  her  half- 
shut  eyes. 

' '  It  was  because  of  the  Dine,  who  were  not  friendly 
to  the  Queres,  that  the  towns  were  built  as  you 
see,  with  the  solid  outer  wall  and  the  doors  all 
opening  on  a  court,  at  the  foot  of  the  cliff .  It  was 
hot  and  quiet  there  with  always  something  friendly 
going  on,  children  tumbling  about  among  the  dogs 
and  the  turkeys,  an  old  man  rattling  a  gourd  and 
singing  the  evil  away  from  his  eyes,  or  the  plump, 
plump  of  the  mealing-stone  from  the  doorways. 
Now  and  then  a  maiden  going  by,  with  a  tray  of 
her  best  cooking  which  she  carried  to  her  young 
man  as  a  sign  that  she  had  accepted  him,  would 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

throw  me  a  morsel,  and  at  evenings  the  priests 
would  come  out  of  the  kivas  and  strike  with  a  clap 
per  of  deer's  shoulder  on  a  flint  gong  to  call  the 
people  to  the  dancing-places." 

The  children  turned  to  look  once  more  at  the 
narrow  rift  of  Ty-uonyi  as  it  opened  from  the 
canon  of  the  Rio  Grande  between  two  basalt 
columns  to  allow  the  sparkling  Rito  to  pass  where 
barely  two  men  could  walk  abreast.  Back  from  the 
stream  the  pale  amber  cliffs  swept  in  smooth  laps 
and  folds  like  ribbons.  Crowded  against  its  sheer 
northern  face  the  irregularly  terraced  heaps  of  the 
communal  houses  looked  little  as  ant  heaps  at 
the  foot  of  a  garden  wall.  Tiers  and  tiers  of  the 
T-shaped  openings  of  the  cave  dwellings  spotted  the 
smooth  cliff,  but  along  the  single  two-mile  street, 
except  for  an  occasional  obscure  doorway,  ran  the 
blank,  mud-plastered  wall  of  the  kivas. 

Where  the  floor  of  the  canon  widened,  the  water 
of  the  Rito  was  led  out  in  tiny  dikes  and  ditches 
to  water  the  garden  patches.  A  bowshot  on  the 
opposite  side  rose  the  high  south  wall,  wind  and 
rain  washed  into  tents  and  pinnacles,  spotted  with 
pale  scrub  and  blood-red  flowers  of  nopal.  Trails 
spidered  up  its  broken  steep,  and  were  lost  in  the 
cloud-drift  or  dipped  out  of  sight  over  the  edge  of 
the  timbered  mesa. 

"  We  would  go  over  the  trail  to  hunt,"  said  Moke- 
icha.  "  There  were  no  buffaloes,  but  blacktail  and 

100 


THE  DELIGHT-MAKERS 

mule  deer  that  fattened  on  the  bunch  grass,  and 
bands  of  pronghorn  flashing  their  white  rumps. 
Quail  ran  in  droves  and  rose  among  the  mesas  like 
young  thunder. 

"That  was  my  cave,"  said  the  Puma,  nodding 
toward  a  hole  high  up  like  a  speck  on  the  five-hun 
dred-foot  cliff,  close  up  under  the  great  ceremonial 
Cave  which  was  painted  with  the  sign  of  the  Morn 
ing  and  the  Evening  Star,  and  the  round,  bright 
House  of  the  Sun  Father.  "  But  at  first  I  slept  in  the 
kiva  with  Tse-tse-yote.  Speaking  of  devils  —  there 
was  no  one  who  had  the  making  of  a  livelier  devil 
in  him  than  my  young  master.  Slim  as  an  arrow,  he 
would  come  up  from  his  morning  dip  in  the  Rito, 
glittering  like  the  dark  stone  of  which  knives  are 
made,  and  his  hair  in  the  sun  gave  back  the  light 
like  a  raven.  And  there  was  no  man's  way  of  walk 
ing  or  standing,  nor  any  cry  of  bird  or  beast,  that 
he  could  not  slip  into  as  easily  as  a  snake  slips  into 
a  shadow.  He  would  never  mock  when  he  was  asked, 
but  let  him  alone,  and  some  evening,  when  the 
people  smoked  and  rested,  he  would  come  stepping 
across  the  court  in  the  likeness  of  some  young  man 
whose  maiden  had  just  smiled  on  him.  Or  if  some 
hunter  prided  himself  too  openly  on  a  buck  he  had 
killed,  the  first  thing  he  knew  there  would  be 
Tse-tse-yote  walking  like  an  ancient  spavined 
wether  prodded  by  a  blunt  arrow,  until  the  whole 
court  roared  with  laughter. 

101 


f  HIE  TRAIL  BOOK 

"  Still,  Kokomo  should  have  known  better  than 
to  try  to  make  him  one  of  the  Koshare,  for  though 
laughter  followed  my  master  as  ripples  follow  a 
skipping  stone,  he  laughed  little  himself. 

"Who  were  the  Koshare?  They  were  the  Delight- 
Makers;  one  of  their  secret  societies.  They  daubed 
themselves  with  mud  and  white  paint  to  make 
laughter  by  jokes  and  tumbling.  They  had  their 
kiva  between  us  and  the  Gourd  People,  but  Tse- 
tse-yote,  who  had  set  his  heart  on  being  elected 
to  the  Warrior  Band,  the  Uakanyi,  made  no  secret 
of  thinking  small  of  the  Koshare. 

"  There  was  no  war  at  that  time,  but  the  Uakanyi 
went  down  with  the  Salt-Gatherers  to  Crawling 
Water,  once  in  every  year  between  the  corn-planting 
and  the  first  hoeing,  and  as  escort  on  the  trading 
trips.  They  would  go  south  till  they  could  see  the 
blue  wooded  slope  below  the  white-veiled  moun 
tain,  and  would  make  smoke  for  a  trade  signal, 
three  smokes  close  together  and  one  farther  off, 
till  the  Men  of  the  South  came  to  deal  with  them. 
But  it  was  the  Salt-Gathering  that  made  Tse-tse- 
yote  prefer  the  Warrior  Band  to  the  Koshare,  for 
all  that  country  through  which  the  trail  lay  was 
disputed  by  the  Dine.  It  is  true  there  was  a  treaty, 
but  there  was  also  a  saying  at  Ty-uonyi,  '  a  sieve 
for  water  and  a  treaty  for  the  Dine.' ' 

The  Navajo  broke  in  angrily,  "The  Tellings 
were  to  be  of  the  trails,  0  Kabeyde,  and  not  of  the 

102 


Tse-tse-yote  and  Moke-icha 


THE  DELIGHT-MAKERS 

virtues  of  my  ancestors!"  The  children  looked 
at  him,  round-eyed. 

"Are  you  the  Dine?"  they  exclaimed  both  at 
once.  It  seemed  to  bring  the  Cliff  People  so  much 
nearer. 

"So  we  were  named,  though  we  were  called 
devils  by  those  who  feared  us,  and  Blanket  People 
by  the  Plainsmen.  We  were  a  tree  whose  roots 
were  in  the  desert  and  whose  branches  were  over  all 
the  north,  and  there  is  no  Telling  of  the  Queres, 
Cochiti,  or  Ty-uonyi,  0  Kabeyde,"  — he  turned  to 
the  puma,  —  "which  I  cannot  match  with  a  better 
of  those  same  Dine." 

"There  were  Dine  in  this  Telling,"  purred  Moke- 
icha,  "and  one  puma.  There  was  also  Pitahaya, 
the  chief,  who  was  so  old  that  he  spent  most  of  the 
time  singing  the  evil  out  of  his  eyes.  There  was 
Kokomo,  who  wished  to  be  chief  in  his  stead,  and 
there  was  Willow-in-the-Wind,  the  turkey  girl, 
who  had  no  one  belonging  to  her.  She  had  a  wind 
blown  way  of  walking,  and  her  long  hair,  which 
she  washed  almost  every  day  in  the  Rito,  streamed 
behind  her  like  the  tips  of  young  willows.  Finaljy, 
there  was  Tse-tse-yote.  But  one  must  pick  up  the 
trail  before  one  settles  to  the  Telling,"  said  Moke- 
icha. 

"Tse-tse-yote  took  me,  a  nine  days'  cub,  from 
the  lair  in  Shut  Canon  and  brought  me  up  in  his 
mother's  house,  the  fifth  one  on  the  right  from  the 

103 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

gate  that  was  called,  because  of  a  great  hump  of 
arrow-stone  which  was  built  into  it,  Rock-Over- 
hanging*.  When  he  was  old  enough  to  leave  his 
mother  and  sleep  in  the  kiva  of  his  clan,  he  took 
me  with  him,  where  I  have  no  doubt  we  made  a 
great  deal  of  trouble.  Nights  when  the  moon  called 
me,  I  would  creep  out  of  Tse-tse's  arms  to  the  top 
of  the  ladder.  The  kivas  opened  downward  from 
a  hole  in  the  roof  in  memory  of  Shipapu.  Half- 
awake,  Tse-tse  would  come  groping  to  find  me 
until  he  trod  on  one  of  the  others  by  mistake,  who 
would  dream  that  the  Dine  were  after  him  and 
wake  the  kiva  with  his  howls.  Or  somebody  would 
pinch  my  tail  and  Tse-tse  would  hit  right  and  left 
with  his  pillows  — 

"Pillows?"  said  Oliver. 

"Mats  of  reed  or  deerskin.  They  would  slap  at 
one  another,  or  snatch  at  any  convenient  ankle 
or  hair,  until  Kokomo,  the  master  of  the  kiva, 
would  have  to  come  and  cuff  them  apart.  Always 
he  made  believe  that  Tse-tse  or  I  had  started  it, 
and  one  night  he  tried  to  throw  me  out  by  the  skin 
of  my  neck,  and  I  turned  in  his  hand  -  How  was 
I  to  know  that  the  skin  of  man  is  so  tender?  — 
and  his  smell  was  the  smell  of  a  man  who  nurses 
grudges. 

"After  that,  even  Tse-tse-yote  saw  that  I  was 
too  old  for  the  kiva,  so  he  made  me  a  cave  for  myself, 
high  up  under  the  House  of  the  Sun  Father,  and 

104 


THE  DELIGHT-MAKERS 

afterward  he  widened  it  so  that  he  could  sit  there 
tying  prayer  plumes  and  feathering  his  arrows. 
By  day  I  hunted  with  Tse-tse-yote  on  the  mesa, 
or  lay  up  in  a  corner  of  the  terrace  above  the  court 
of  the  Gourd  Clan,  and  by  night  —  to  say  the 
truth,  by  night  I  did  very  much  as  it  pleased  me. 
There  was  a  broken  place  in  the  wall-plaster  by 
the  gate  of  the  Rock-Overhanging,  by  which  I 
could  go  up  and  down,  and  if  I  was  caught  walking 
on  the  terrace,  nobody  minded  me.  I  was  Kabeyde, 
and  the  hunters  thought  I  brought  them  luck." 

Thus  having  picked  up  the  trail  to  her  satisfac 
tion,  Moke-icha  tucked  her  paws  under  her  com 
fortably  and  settled  to  her  story. 

"When  Tse-tse-yote  took  me  to  sleep  with  him 
in  the  kiva  of  his  clan,  Kokomo,  who  was  head  of 
the  kiva,  objected.  So  Tse-tse-yote  spent  the  three 
nights  following  in  a  corner  of  the  terrace  with 
me  curled  up  for  warmth  beside  him.  Tse-tse's 
father  heard  of  it  and  carried  the  matter  to  Coun 
cil.  Tse-tse  had  taken  me  with  his  own  hands  from 
the  lair,  knowing  very  well  what  my  mother  would 
have  done  to  him  had  she  come  back  and  found 
him  there;  and  Tse-tse's  father  was  afraid,  if  they 
took  away  the  first  fruits  of  his  son's  courage,  the 
courage  would  go  with  it.  The  Council  agreed  with 
him.  Kokomo  was  furious  at  having  the  manage- 
ment  of  his  kiva  taken  out  of  his  hands,  and  Tse-tse 

105 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

knew  it.  Later,  when  even  Tse-tse's  father  agreed 
that  I  was  too  old  for  the  kiva,  Tse-tse  taught  me 
to  curl  my  tail  under  my  legs  and  slink  on  my  belly 
when  I  saw  Kokomo.  Then  he  would  scold  me  for 
being  afraid  of  the  kind  man,  and  the  other  boys 
would  giggle,  for  they  knew  very  well  that  Tse-tse 
had  to  beat  me  over  the  head  with  a  firebrand  to 
teach  me  that  trick. 

"  It  was  a  day  or  two  after  I  had  learned  it,  that 
we  met  Willow-in-the-Wind  feeding  her  turkey 
flock  by  the  Rito  as  we  came  from  hunting,  and  she 
scolded  Tse-tse  for  making  fun  of  Kokomo. 

"'It  is  plain,'  she  said,  'that  you  are  trying  to 
get  yourself  elected  to  the  Delight-Makers.' 

" '  You  know  very  well  it  is  no  such  thing,'  he  an 
swered  her  roughly,  for  it  was  not  permitted  a  young 
man  to  make  a  choice  of  the  society  he  would  belong 
to.  He  had  to  wait  until  he  was  elected  by  his 
elders.  The  turkey  girl  paddled  her  toes  in  the  Rito. 

'"There  is  only  one  way,'  she  said,  'that  a  man 
can  be  kept  from  making  fun  of  the  Koshare,  and 
that  is  by  electing  him  a  member.  Now,  /  thought 
you  would  have  preferred  the  Uakanyi,'  —  just  as 
if  she  did  not  know  that  there  was  little  else  he 
thought  of. 

"Tse-tse  pulled  up  the  dry  grass  and  tossed  it 
into  the  water.  'In  the  old  days,'  he  said,  'I  have 
heard  that  Those  Above  sent  the  Delight-Makers 
to  make  the  people  laugh  so  that  the  way  should 

106 


THE  DELIGHT-MAKERS 

not  seem  long,  and  the  Earth  be  fruitful.  But  now 
the  jests  of  the  Koshare  are  scorpions,  each  one 
with  a  sting  in  its  tail  for  the  enemies  of  the  Delight- 
Makers.  I  had  sooner  strike  mine  with  a  knife  or 
an  arrow.' 

"'Enemies,  yes,'  said  Willow-in-the-Wind,  'but 
you  cannot  use  a  knife  on  those  who  sit  with  you  in 
Council.  You  know  very  well  that  Kokomo  wishes 
to  be  chief  in  place  of  Pitahaya.' 

"Tse-tse  looked  right  and  left  to  see  who  lis 
tened.  'Kokomo  is  a  strong  man  in  Ty-uonyi,'  he 
said;  'it  was  he  who  made  the  treaty  with  the 
Dine.  And  Pitahaya  is  blind.' 

"'Aye,'  said  the  turkey  girl;  'when  you  are  a 
Delight-Maker  you  can  make  a  fine  jest  of  it.' 

"She  had  been  brought  up  a  foundling  in  the 
house  of  the  old  chief  and  was  fond  of  him.  Tse-tse, 
who  had  heard  and  said  more  than  became  a  young 
man,  was  both  angry  and  frightened;  therefore  he 
boasted. 

"'Kokomo  shall  not  make  me  a  Koshare,'  he 
said;  'it  will  not  be  the  first  time  I  have  carried  the 
Council  against  him.' 

"At  that  time  I  did  not  know  so  much  of  the 
Dine  as  that  they  were  men.  But  the  day  after 
Willow-in-the-Wind  ,  told  Tse-tse  that  Kokomo 
meant  to  have  him  elected  to  the  Koshare  if  only 
to  keep  him  from  making  a  mock  of  Kokomo,  we 
went  up  over  the  south  wall  hunting. 

107 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

"It  was  all  flat  country  from  there  to  the  roots 
of  the  mountains;  great  pines  stood  wide  apart, 
with  here  and  there  a  dwarf  cedar  steeping  in  the 
strong  sun.  We  hunted  all  the  morning  and  lay  up 
under  a  dark  oak  watching  the  young  winds  stalk 
one  another  among  the  lupins.  Lifting  myself  to 
catch  the  upper  scent,  I  winded  a  man  that  was 
not  of  Ty-uonyi.  A  moment  later  we  saw  him  with 
a  buck  on  his  shoulders,  working  his  way  cautiously 
toward  the  head  of  Dripping  Spring  Canon. 
*  Dine ! '  said  Tse-tse; '  fighting  man.'  And  he  signed 
to  me  that  we  must  stalk  him. 

"For  an  hour  we  slunk  and  crawled  through  the 
black  rock  that  broke  through  the  mesa  like  a 
twisty  root  of  the  mountain.  At  the  head  of  Drip 
ping  Spring  we  smelled  wood  smoke.  We  crept 
along  the  canon  rim  and  saw  our  man  at  the  bottom 
of  it.  He  had  hung  up  his  buck  at  the  camp  and 
was  cutting  strips  from  it  for  his  supper. 

"Look  well,  Kabeyde,'  said  my  master;  'smell 
and  remember.  This  man  is  my  enemy.'  I  did  not 
like  the  smell  in  any  case.  The  Queres  smell  of  the 
earth  in  which  they  dig  and  house,  but  the  Dine 
smelled  of  himself  and  the  smoke  of  sagebrush.  Tse 
tse's  hand  was  on  the  back  of  my  neck.  'Wait,'  he 
said ; '  one  Dine  has  not  two  blankets.'  We  could  see 
them  lying  in  a  little  heap  not  far  from  the  camp. 
Presently  in  the  dusk  another  man  came  up  the 
canon  from  the  direction  of  the  river  and  joined  him. 

108 


THE  DELIGHT-MAKERS 

"We  cast  back  and  forth  between  Dripping 
Spring  and  the  mouth  of  the  Ty-uonyi  most  of  the 
night,  but  no  more  Dine  showed  themselves.  At 
sunrise  Willow-in-the-Wind  met  us  coming  up  the 
Rito. 

44 'Feed  farther  up,'  Tse-tse  told  her;  'the  Dine 
are  abroad.' 

"Her  face  changed,  but  she  did  not  squeal  as  the 
other  women  did  when  they  heard  it.  Therefore 
I  respected  her.  That  was  the  way  it  was  with  me. 
Every  face  I  searched,  to  see  if  there  was  fear  in  it, 
and  if  there  was  none  I  myself  was  a  little  afraid; 
but  where  there  was  fear  the  back  of  my  neck  bris 
tled.  I  know  that  the  hair  rose  on  it  when  we  came 
to  tell  our  story  to  the  Council.  That  was  when 
Kokomo  was  called;  he  came  rubbing  the  sleep  out 
of  his  eyes,  pretending  that  Tse-tse  had  made  a  tale 
out  of  nothing. 

'We  have  a  treaty  with  the  Dine,'  he  said. 
'Besides,  I  was  out  rehearsing  with  the  Koshare 
last  night  toward  Shut  Canon;  if  there  had  been 
Dine  /  should  have  seen  them.' 

"It  was  then  that  I  was  aware  of  Tse-tse's  hand 
creeping  along  my  shoulders  to  hide  the  bristling. 

"He  is  afraid,'  said  Tse-tse  to  me  in  the  cave; 
'you  saw  it.  Yet  he  is  not  afraid  of  the  Dine. 
Sometimes  I  think  he  is  afraid  of  me.  That  is  why 
he  wished  me  to  join  the  Koshare,  for  then  he  will  be 
my  Head,  and  without  his  leave  I  can  do  nothing.' 

109 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

"This  was  a  true  saying.  Only  a  few  days  after 
that,  I  found  one  of  their  little  wooden  images, 
painted  and  feathered  like  a  Delight-Maker,  in  my 
cave.  It  was  an  invitation.  It  smelled  of  Kokomo 
and  I  scratched  dirt  on  it.  Then  came  Tse-tse, 
and  as  he  turned  the  little  Koshare  over  in  his 
hand,  I  saw  that  there  were  many  things  had  come 
into  his  head  which  would  never  come  into  mine. 
Presently  I  heard  him  laugh  as  he  did  when  he  had 
hit  upon  some  new  trick  for  splitting  the  people's 
sides,  like  the  bubble  of  a  wicker  bottle  held  under 
water.  He  took  my  chin  in  his  hand.  'Without 
doubt,'  he  said,  'this  is  Kokomo's;  he  would  be 
very  pleased  if  you  returned  it  to  him.'  I  under 
stood  it  as  an  order. 

"I  carried  the  little  Delight-Maker  to  Kokomo 
that  night  in  the  inner  court,  when  the  evening 
meal  was  over  and  the  old  men  smoked  while  the 
younger  sat  on  the  housetops  and  moaned  together 
melodiously.  Tse-tse  looked  up  from  a  game  of 
cherry  stones.  'Hey,  Kokomo,  have  you  been 
inviting  Kabeyde  to  join  the  Koshare?  A  good 
shot!'  he  said,  and  before  Kokomo  could  answer 
it,  he  began  putting  me  through  my  tricks. " 

"Tricks?"  cried  the  children. 

"Jumping  over  a  stick,  you  know,  and  showing 
what  I  would  do  if  I  met  the  Dine."  The  great  cat 
flattened  herself  along  the  ground  to  spring,  put 
back  her  ears,  and  showed  her  teeth  with  a  snarly 

110 


THE  DELIGHT-MAKERS 

whine,  almost  too  wicked  to  be  pretended.  "I 
was  very  good  at  that,"  said  Moke-icha. 

"'The  Delight-Maker  was  for  you,  Tse-tse,'  said 
the  turkey  girl  next  morning.  'Kokomo  cannot 
prove  that  you  gave  it  to  Kabeyde,  but  he  will 
never  forgive  you.' 

"True  enough,  at  the  next  festival  the  Koshare 
set  the  whole  of  Ty-uonyi  shouting  with  a  sort 
of  play  that  showed  Tse-tse  scared  by  rabbits  in 
the  brush,  and  thinking  the  Dine  were  after  them. 
Tse-tse  was  furious  and  the  turkey  girl  was  so 
angry  on  his  account  that  she  scolded  him,  which 
is  the  way  with  women. 

"You  see,"  explained  Moke-icha  to  the  children, 
"if  he  wanted  to  be  made  a  member  of  the  War 
rior  Band,  it  would  n't  help  him  any  to  be  proved 
a  bad  scout,  and  a  bringer  of  false  alarms.  And  if 
he  could  be  elected  to  the  Uakanyi  that  spring, 
he  would  probably  be  allowed  to  go  on  the  salt  ex 
pedition  between  corn-planting  and  the  first  hoe 
ing.  But  after  I  had  carried  back  the  little  Delight- 
Maker  to  Kokomo,  there  were  no  signs  of  the 
four-colored  arrow,  which  was  the  invitation  to  the 
Uakanyi,  and  young  men  whom  Tse-tse  had  mim 
icked  too  often  went  about  pretending  to  discover 
Dine  wherever  a  rabbit  ran  or  the  leaves  rustled. 

"Tse-tse  behaved  very  badly.  He  was  sharp 
with  the  turkey  girl  because  she  had  warned  him, 
and  when  we  hunted  on  the  mesa  he  would  forget 

111 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

me  altogether,  running  like  a  man  afraid  of  himself 
until  I  was  too  winded  to  keep  up  with  him.  I  am 
not  built  for  running,"  said  Moke-icha,  "my  part 
was  to  pick  up  the  trail  of  the  game,  and  then  to 
lie  up  while  Tse-tse  drove  it  past  and  spring  for 
the  throat  and  shoulder.  But  when  I  found  myself 
neglected  I  went  back  to  Willow-in-the-Wind  who 
wove  wreaths  for  my  neck,  which  tickled  my  chin, 
and  made  Tse-tse  furious. 

"The  day  that  the  names  of  those  who  would  go 
on  the  Salt  Trail  were  given  out  —  Tse-tse's  was 
not  among  them  —  was  two  or  three  before  the 
feast  of  the  corn-planting  and  the  last  of  the  winter 
rains.  Tse-tse-yote  was  off  on  one  of  his  wild  run 
nings,  but  I  lay  in  the  back  of  the  cave  and  heard 
the  myriad-footed  Bain  on  the  mesa.  Between 
showers  there  was  a  soft  foot  on  the  ladder  out 
side,  and  Willow-in-the-Wind  pushed  a  tray  of  her 
best  cooking  into  the  door  of  the  cave  and  ran  away 
without  looking.  That  was  the  fashion  of  a  love- 
giving.  I  was  much  pleased  with  it." 

"Oh!-  "Dorcas  Jane  began  to  say  and  broke 
off.  "Tell  us  what  it  was!"  she  finished. 

Moke-icha  considered. 

"Breast  of  turkey  roasted,  and  rabbit  stew  with 

pieces  of  squash  and  chia,  and  beans  cooked  in  fat, 

-very  good  eating;  and  of  course  thin,  folded 

cakes  of  maize;  though  I  do  not  care  much  for  corn 

cakes  unless  they  are  well  greased.   But  because  it 


THE  DELIGHT-MAKERS 

was  a  love-gift  I  ate  all  of  it  and  was  licking  the 
basket-tray  when  Tse-tse  came  back.  He  knew 
the  fashion  of  her  weaving,  —  every  woman's  bas 
kets  had  her  own  mark,  —  and  as  he  took  it  from 
me  his  face  changed  as  though  something  inside 
him  had  turned  to  water.  Without  a  word  he  went 
down  the  hill  to  the  chief's  house  and  I  after  him. 

"'Moke-icha  liked  your  cooking  so  well,'  he 
said  to  the  turkey  girl,  'that  she  was  eating  the 
basket  also.  I  have  brought  it  back  to  you.'  There 
he  stood  shifting  from  one  foot  to  another  and 
Willow-in-the-Wind  turned  taut  as  a  bowstring. 

"'Oh,'  she  said,  'Moke-icha  has  eaten  it!  I  am 
very  glad  to  hear  it.'  And  with  that  she  marched 
into  an  inner  room  and  did  not  come  out  again  all 
that  evening,  and  Tse-tse  went  hunting  next  day 
without  me. 

"The  next  night,  which  was  the  third  before  the 
feast  of  planting,  being  lonely,  I  went  out  for  a 
walk  on  the  mesa.  It  was  a  clear  night  of  wind  and 
moving  shadow;  I  went  on  a  little  way  and  smelled 
man.  Two  men  I  smelled,  Dine  and  Queresan,  and 
the  Queresan  was  Kokomo.  They  were  together  in 
the  shadow  of  a  juniper  where  no  man  could  have 
seen  them.  Where  I  stood  no  man  could  have 
heard  them. 

"'It  is  settled,  then,'  said  Kokomo.  'You  send 
the  old  man  to  Shipapu,  for  which  he  has  long 
been  ready,  and  take  the  girl  for  your  trouble.' 

113 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

"'Good,'  said  the  Dine.  'But  will  not  the  Ko- 
share  know  if  an  extra  man  goes  in  with  them? ' 

"'We  go  in  three  bands,  and  we  have  taken  in 
so  many  new  members  that  no  one  knows  exactly.' 

" '  It  is  a  risk,'  said  the  Dine. 

"  And  as  he  moved  into  the  wind  I  knew  the  smell 
of  him,  and  it  was  the  man  we  had  seen  at  Dripping 
Spring;  not  the  hunter,  but  the  one  who  had  joined 
him. 

" '  Not  so  much  risk  as  the  chance  of  not  finding 
the  right  house  in  the  dark,'  said  Kokomo;  'and 
the  girl  has  no  one  belonging  to  her.  Who  shall  say 
that  she  did  not  go  of  her  own  accord?' 

"'At  any  rate,'  the  Dine  laughed,  'I  know  she 
must  be  as  beautiful  as  you  say  she  is,  since  you  are 
willing  to  run  the  risk  of  my  seeing  her.' 

"They  moved  off,  and  the  wind  walking  on  the 
pine  needles  covered  what  they  said,  but  I  remem 
bered  what  I  had  heard  because  they  smelled  of 
mischief. 

"Two  nights  later  I  remembered  it  again  when 
the  Delight-Makers  came  out  of  the  dark  in  three 
bands  and  split  the  people's  sides  with  laughter. 
They  were  disguised  in  black-and-white  paint  and 
daubings  of  mud  and  feathers,  but  there  was  a  Dine 
among  them.  By  the  smell  I  knew  him.  He  was  a 
tall  man  who  tumbled  well  and  kept  close  to  Ko 
komo.  But  a  Dine  is  an  enemy.  Tse-tse-yote  had 
told  me.  Therefore  I  kept  close  at  his  heels  as  they 

114 


THE  DELIGHT-MAKERS 

worked  around  toward  the  house  of  Pitahaya,  and 
my  neck  bristled.  I  could  see  that  the  Dine  had 
noticed  me.  He  grew  a  little  frightened,  I  think, 
and  whipped  at  me  with  the  whip  of  feathers  which 
the  Koshare  carried  to  tickle  the  tribesmen.  I  laid 
back  my  ears — I  am  Kabeyde,  and  it  is  not  for  the 
Dine  to  flick  whips  at  me.  All  at  once  there  rose 
a  shouting  for  Tse-tse,  who  came  running  and 
beat  me  over  the  head  with  his  bow-case. 

'"They  will  think  I  set  you  on  to  threaten  the 
Koshare  because  they  mocked  me,'  he  said.  '  Have 
you  not  done  me  mischief  enough  already?' 

"  That  was  when  we  were  back  in  the  cave,  where 
he  penned  me  till  morning.  There  was  no  way  I 
could  tell  him  that  there  was  a  Dine  among  the 
Koshare." 

"But  I  thought  —  "began  Oliver,  he  looked  over 
to  where  Arrumpa  stood  drawing  young  boughs  of 
maple  through  his  mouth  like  a  boy  stripping  cur 
rants.  "  Could  n't  you  just  have  told  him?  " 

"In  the  old  days,"  said  Moke-icha,  "men  spoke 
with  beasts  as  brothers.  The  Queres  had  come  too 
far  on  the  Man  Trail.  I  had  no  words,  but  I  remem 
bered  the  trick  he  had  taught  me,  about  what  to 
do  when  I  met  a  Dine.  I  laid  back  my  ears  and 
snarled  at  him. 

" '  What ! '  he  said ; '  will  you  make  a  Dine  of  me  ? ' 
I  saw  him  frown,  and  suddenly  he  slapped  his  thigh 
as  a  man  does  when  thought  overtakes  him.  Being 

115 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

but  a  lad  he  would  not  have  dared  say  what  he 
thought,  but  he  took  to  spending  the  night  on  top 
of  the  kiva.  I  would  look  out  of  my  cave  and  see 
him  there  curled  up  in  a  corner,  or  pacing  to  and 
fro  with  the  dew  on  his  blanket  and  his  face  turned 
to  the  souls  of  the  prayer  plumes  drifting  in  a  wide 
band  across  the  middle  heaven. 

"  I  would  have  been  glad  to  keep  him  company, 
but  as  neither  Tse-tse  nor  Willow-in-the-Wind  paid 
any  attention  to  me  in  those  days,  I  decided  that 
I  might  as  well  go  with  the  men  and  see  for  myself 
what  lay  at  the  other  end  of  the  Salt  Trail. 

"I  gave  them  a  day's  start,  so  that  I  might  not 
be  turned  back;  but  it  was  not  necessary,  since  no 
man  looked  back  or  turned  around  on  that  journey, 
and  no  one  spoke  except  those  who  had  been  over 
the  trail  at  least  two  times.  They  ate  little, — 
fine  meal  of  parched  corn  mixed  with  water,  — 
and  what  was  left  in  the  cup  was  put  into  the  earth 
for  a  thank  offering.  No  one  drank  except  as  the 
leader  said  they  could,  and  at  night  they  made 
prayers  and  songs. 

4 'The  trail  leaves  the  mesa  at  the  Place  of  the 
Gap,  a  dry  gully  snaking  its  way  between  puma- 
colored  hills  and  boulders  big  as  kivas.  Lasting 
Water  is  at  the  end  of  the  second  day's  journey; 
rainwater  that  slips  down  into  a  black  basin  with 
rock  overhanging,  cool  as  an  olla.  The  rocks  in 
that  place  when  struck  give  out  a  pleasant  sound. 

116 


THE  DELIGHT-MAKERS 

Beyond  the  Gap  there  is  white  sand  in  waves  like 
water,  wild  hills  and  raw,  red  canons.  Around  a 
split  rock  the  trail  dips  suddenly  to  Sacred  Water, 
shallow  and  white-bordered  like  a  great  dead  eye." 

"I  know  that  place,"  said  the  Navajo,  "and  I 
think  this  must  be  true,  for  there  is  a  trail  there 
which  bites  deep  into  the  granite." 

"It  was  deep  and  polished  even  in  my  day," 
said  Moke-icha,  "but  that  did  not  interest  me. 
There  was  no  kill  there  larger  than  rabbits,  and 
when  I  had  seen  the  men  cast  prayer  plumes  on 
the  Sacred  Water  and  begin  to  scrape  up  the  salt 
for  their  packs,  I  went  back  to  Ty-uonyi.  It  was 
not  until  I  got  back  to  Lasting  Water  that  I  picked 
up  the  trail  of  the  Dine.  I  followed  it  half  a  day 
before  it  occurred  to  me  that  they  were  going  to  Ty- 
uonyi.  One  of  the  smells  —  there  were  three  of 
them — was  the  Dine  who  had  come  in  with  the  Ko- 
share.  I  remembered  the  broken  plaster  on  the  wall 
and  Tse-tse  asleep  on  the  housetops.  Then  I  hurried. 

"  It  was  blue  midnight  and  the  scent  fresh  on  the 
grass  as  I  came  up  the  Rito.  I  heard  a  dog  bark 
behind  the  first  kiva,  and,  as  I  came  opposite  Rock- 
Overhanging,  the  sound  of  feet  running.  I  smelled 
Dine  going  up  the  wall  and  slipped  back  in  my 
hurry,  but  as  I  came  over  the  roof  of  the  kiva  a 
tumult  broke  out  in  the  direction  of  Pitahaya's 
house.  There  was  a  scream  and  a  scuffle.  I  saw 
Tse-tse  running  and  sent  him  the  puma  cry  at 

117 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

which  does  asleep  with  their  fawns  tremble.  Down 
in  the  long  passage  between  Pitahaya's  court  and 
the  gate  of  Rock-Overhanging,  Tse-tse  answered 
with  the  hunting-whistle. 

"There  was  a  fight  going  on  in  the  passage. 
I  could  feel  the  cool  draught  from  the  open  gate, 
—  they  must  have  opened  it  from  the  inside  after 
scaling  the  wall  by  the  broken  plaster, — and  smelled 
rather  than  saw  that  one  man  held  the  passage 
against  Tse-tse.  He  was  armed  with  a  stone  ham 
mer,  which  is  no  sort  of  weapon  for  a  narrow  pas 
sage.  Tse-tse  had  caught  bow  and  quiver  from 
the  arms  that  hung  always  at  the  inner  entrance 
of  the  passage,  but  made  no  attempt  to  draw. 
He  was  crouched  against  the  wall,  knife  in  hand, 
watching  for  an  opening,  when  he  heard  me  pad 
ding  up  behind  him  in  the  darkness. 

'"Good!  Kabeyde,'  he  cried  softly;  'go  for  him.' 
"I  sprang  straight  for  the  opening  I  could  see 
behind  the  Dine,  and  felt  him  go  down  as  I  cleared 
the  entrance.  Tse-tse  panted  behind  me,  —  '  Fol 
low,  follow!'  I  could  hear  the  men  my  cry  had 
waked,  pouring  out  of  the  kivas,  and  knew  that 
the  Dine  we  had  knocked  over  would  be  taken  care 
of.  We  picked  up  the  trail  of  those  who  had  es 
caped,  straight  across  the  Rito  and  over  the  south 
wall,  but  it  was  an  hour  before  I  realized  that  they 
had  taken  Willow-in-the-Wind  with  them.  Old 
Pitahaya  was  dead  without  doubt,  and  the  man 

118 


THE  DELIGHT-MAKERS 

who  had  taken  Willow-in-the-Wind  was,  by  the 
smell,  the  same  that  had  come  in  with  Kokomo 
and  the  Koshare. 

"We  were  hot  on  their  trail,  and  by  afternoon  of 
the  next  day  I  was  certain  that  they  were  making 
for  Lasting  Water.  So  I  took  Tse-tse  over  the  rim 
of  the  Gap  by  a  short  cut  which  I  had  discovered, 
which  would  drop  us  back  into  the  trail  before 
they  had  done  drinking.  Tse-tse,  who  trusted  me 
to  keep  the  scent,  was  watching  ahead  for  a  sight 
of  the  quarry.  Thus  he  saw  the  Dine  before  I 
winded  them.  I  don't  know  whether  they  were  just 
a  hunting-party,  or  friends  of  those  we  followed. 
We  dropped  behind  a  boulder  and  Tse-tse  counted 
while  I  lifted  every  scent. 

"'Five,'  he  said,  'and  the  Finisher  of  the  Paths 
of  Our  Lives  knows  how  many  more  between  us 
and  Lasting  Water!' 

"We  did  not  know  yet  whether  they  had  seen 
us,  but  as  we  began  to  move  again  cautiously,  a 
fox  barked  in  the  scrub  that  was  not  a  fox.  Off 
to  our  left  another  answered  him.  So  now  we  were 
no  longer  hunters,  but  hunted. 

"Tse-tse  slipped  his  tunic  down  to  his  middle 
and,  unbinding  his  queue,  wound  his  long  hair 
about  his  head  to  make  himself  look  as  much  like 
a  Dine  as  possible.  I  could  see  thought  rippling 
in  him  as  he  worked,  like  wind  on  water.  We 
began  to  snake  between  the  cactus  and  the  black 

119 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

rock  toward  the  place  where  the  fox  had  last 
barked." 

"But  toward  them  —  "  Oliver  began. 

"They  were  between  us  and  Lasting  Water,"  — 
Moke-icha  looked  about  the  listening  circle  and 
the  Indians  nodded,  agreeing.  "  When  a  fox  barked 
again,  Tse-tse  answered  with  the  impudent  folly 
of  a  young  kit  talking  back  to  his  betters.  Evi 
dently  the  man  on  our  left  was  fooled  by  it,  for 
he  sheered  off,  but  within  a  bowshot  they  began 
to  close  on  us  again. 

"We  had  come  to  a  thicket  of  mesquite  from 
which  a  man  might  slip  unnoticed  to  the  head  of 
the  gully,  provided  no  one  watched  that  particular 
spot  too  steadily.  There  we  lay  among  the  thorns 
and  the  shadows  were  long  in  the  low  sun.  Close  on 
our  right  a  twig  snapped  and  I  began  to  gather 
myself  for  the  spring.  The  ground  sloped  a  little 
before  us  and  gave  the  advantage.  The  hand  of 
Tse-tse-yote  came  along  the  back  of  my  neck  and 
rested  there.  '  If  a  puma  lay  up  here  during  the 
sun,'  he  whispered,  'this  is  the  hour  he  would  go 
forth  to  his  hunting.  He  would  go  stretching  him 
self  after  sleep  and  having  no  fear  of  man,  for  where 
Kabeyde  lies  up,  who  expects  to  find  man  also.'  His 
hand  came  under  my  chin  as  his  custom  was  in 
giving  orders.  This  was  how  I  understood  it;  this 
Idid- 

The  great  cat  bounded  lightly  to  the  ground, 

120 


THE  DELIGHT-MAKERS 

took  two  or  three  stretchy  steps,  shaking  the  sleep 
from  her  flanks,  yawned  prodigiously,  and  trotted 
off  toward  a  thicket  of  wild  plums  into  which  she 
slipped  like  a  beam  of  yellow  light  into  water. 
A  moment  later  she  reappeared  on  the  opposite 
side,  bounded  back  and  settled  herself  on  the 
boulder.  Around  the  circle  ran  the  short  "Huh! 
Huh!"  of  Indian  approval.  The  Navajo  shifted 
his  blanket. 

"A  Dine  could  have  done  no  more  for  a  friend," 
he  admitted. 

"I  see,"  said  Oliver.  "When  the  Dine  saw  you 
coming  out  of  the  mesquite  they  would  have  been 
perfectly  sure  there  was  no  man  there.  But  any 
way,  they  might  have  taken  a  shot  at  you." 

"And  the  twang  of  the  bowstring  and  the 
thrashing  about  of  the  kill  in  the  thicket  would 
have  told  Tse-tse  exactly  where  they  were,"  said 
the  Navajo.  "The  Dine  when  they  hunt  man  do 
not  turn  aside  for  a  puma." 

"The  hardest  part  of  it  all,"  said  Moke-icha, 
"was  to  keep  from  showing  I  winded  him.  I  heard 
the  Dine  move  off,  fox-calling  to  one  another,  and 
at  last  I  smelled  Tse-tse  working  down  the  gully. 
He  paid  no  attention  to  me  whatever;  his  eyes  were 
fixed  on  the  Dine  who  stood  by  the  spring  with  his 
back  to  him  looking  down  on  the  turkey  girl  who 
was  huddled  against  the  rocks  with  her  hands  tied 
behind  her.  The  Dine  looked  down  with  his  arms 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

folded,  evil-smiling.  She  looked  up  and  I  saw  her 
spit  at  him.  The  man  took  her  by  the  shoulder, 
laughing  still,  and  spun  her  up  standing.  Half  a 
bowshot  away  I  heard  Tse-tse-yote.  'Down! 
Down ! '  he  shouted.  The  girl  dropped  like  a  quail. 
The  Dine,  whirling  on  his  heel,  met  the  arrow  with 
his  throat,  and  pitched  choking.  I  came  as  fast 
as  I  could  between  the  boulders  —  I  am  not  built 
for  running  —  Tse-tse  had  unbound  the  girl's  hands 
and  she  leaned  'against  him. 

"Breathing  myself  before  drinking,  I  caught  a 
new  scent  up  the  Gap  where  the  wind  came  from, 
but  before  I  had  placed  it  there  came  a  little  scrape 
on  the  rocks  under  the  roof  of  Lasting  Water, 
small,  like  the  rasp  of  a  snake  coiling.  I  had  forgot 
there  were  three  Dine  at  Ty-uonyi;  the  third  had 
been  under  the  rock  drinking.  He  came  crawling 
now  with  his  knife  in  his  teeth  toward  Tse-tse. 
Me  he  had  not  seen  until  he  came  round  the  sing 
ing  rock,  face  to  face  with  me  .  .  . 

"When  it  was  over,"  said  Moke-icha,  "I  climbed 
up  the  black  roof  of  Lasting  Water  to  lick  a  knife 
cut  in  my  shoulder.  Tse-tse  talked  to  the  girl,  of 
all  things,  about  the  love-gift  she  had  put  in  the 
cave  for  me.  'Moke-icha  had  eaten  it  before  I 
found  her,'  he  insisted,  which  was  unnecessary. 
I  lay  looking  at  the  Dine  I  had  killed  and  licking 
my  wound  till  I  heard,  around  the  bend  of  the  Gap, 
the  travel  song  of  the  Queres. 

122 


THE  DELIGHT-MAKERS 

"It  was  the  Salt  Pack  coming  back,  every  man 
with  his  load  on  his  shoulders.  They  put  their 
hands  in  their  mouths  when  they  saw  Tse-tse. 
There  was  talk;  Willow-in-the-Wind  told  them 
something.  Tse-tse  turned  the  man  he  had  shot 
face  upward.  There  was  black-and-white  paint 
on  his  body;  the  stripes  of  the  Koshare  do  not 
come  off  easily.  I  saw  Tse-tse  look  from  the  man 
to  Kokomo  and  the  face  of  the  Koshare  turned 
grayish.  I  had  lived  with  man,  and  man-thoughts 
came  to  me.  I  had  tasted  blood  of  my  master's 
enemies;  also  Kokomo  was  afraid,  and  that  is  an 
offense  to  me.  I  dropped  from  where  I  lay  ...  I 
had  come  to  my  full  weight ...  I  think  his  back  was 
broken. 

"It  is  the  Way  Things  Are,"  said  Moke-icha. 
"  Kokomo  had  let  in  the  Dine  to  kill  Pitahaya  to 
make  himself  chief,  and  he  would  have  killed  Tse 
tse  for  finding  out  about  it.  That  I  saw  and  smelled 
in  him.  But  I  did  not  wait  this  time  to  be  beaten 
with  my  master's  bow-case.  I  went  back  to  Shut 
Canon,  for  now  that  I  had  killed  one  of  them,  it 
was  not  good  for  me  to  live  with  the  Queres.  Never 
theless,  in  the  rocks  above  Ty-uonyi  you  can  still 
see  the  image  they  made  of  me." 


VIII 

YOUNG-MAN-WHO-NEVER-TURNS-BACK:  A  TELLING 
OF  THE  TALLEGEWI,  BY  ONE  OF  THEM 

IT  could  only  have  been  for  a  few  moments  at  the 
end  of  Moke-icha's  story,  before  the  cliff  picture 
split  like  a  thin  film  before  the  dancing  circles  of  the 
watchmen's  lanterns,  and  curled  into  the  shadows 
between  the  cases.  A  thousand  echoes  broke  out 
in  the  empty  halls  and  muffled  the  voices  as  the 
rings  of  light  withdrew  down  the  long  gallery  in 
glimmering  reflections.  When  they  passed  to  the 
floor  below  a  very  remarkable  change  had  come 
over  the  landscape. 

The  Buffalo  Chief  and  Moke-icha  had  disap 
peared.  A  little  way  ahead  the  trail  plunged  down 
the  leafy  tunnel  of  an  ancient  wood,  along  which 

124 


YOUNG-MAN-WHO-NEVER-TURNS-BACK 

the  children  saw  the  great  elk  trotting  leisurely  with 
his  cows  behind  him,  flattening  his  antlers  over  his 
back  out  of  the  way  of  the  low-branching  maples. 
The  switching  of  the  brush  against  the  elk's  dun 
sides  startled  the  little  black  bear,  who  was  still 
riffling  his  bee  tree.  The  children  watched  him 
rise  inquiringly  to  his  haunches  before  he  scrambled 
down  the  trail  out  of  sight. 

"Lots  of  those  fellows  about  in  my  day,"  said 
the  Mound-Builder.  "We  used  to  go  for  them  in 
the  fall  when  they  grew  fat  on  the  dropping  nuts 
and  acorns.  Elk,  too.  I  remember  a  ten-pronged 
buck  that  I  shot  one  winter  on  the  Elk's-Eye 
River.  .  ." 

"The  Muskingum!"  exclaimed  an  Iroquois,  who 
had  listened  in  silence  to  the  puma's  story.  "Did 
you  call  it  that  too?  Elk's-Eye!  Clear  brown  and 
smooth-flowing.  That 's  the  Scioto  Trail,  is  n't  it?  " 
he  asked  of  the  Mound-Builder. 

"You  could  call  it  that.  There  was  a  cut-off  at 
Beaver  Dam  to  Flint  Ridge  and  the  crossing  of 
the  Muskingum,  and  another  that  led  to  the  mouth 
of  the  Kanawha  where  it  meets  the  River  of  White- 
Flashing." 

"He  means  the  Ohio,"  explained  the  Iroquois 
to  the  children.  "At  flood  the  whole  surface  of 
the  river  would  run  to  white  riffles  like  the  flash 
of  a  water-bird's  wings.  But  the  French  called  it 
La  Belle  Riviere.  I'm  an  Onondaga  myself,"  he 

125 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

added,  "and  in  my  time  the  Five  Nations  held  all 
the  territory,  after  we  had  driven  out  the  Talle- 
gewi,  between  the  Lakes  and  the  0-hey-yo."  He 
stretched  the  word  out,  giving  it  a  little  different 
turn.  "Indians'  names  talk  little,"  he  laughed, 
"but  they  say  much." 

"Like  the  trails,"  agreed  the  Mound-Builder, 
who  was  one  of  the  Tallegewi  himself,  "every  word 
is  the  expression  of  a  need.  We  had  a  trade  route 
over  this  one  for  copper  which  we  fetched  from  the 
Land  of  the  Sky-Blue  Water  and  exchanged  for 
sea-shells  out  of  the  south.  At  the  mouth  of  the 
Scioto  it  connected  with  the  Kaskaskia  Trace  to 
the  Missi-Sippu,  where  we  went  once  a  year  to 
shoot  buffaloes  on  the  plains." 

"When  the  Five  Nations  possessed  the  country, 
the  buffaloes  came  to  us,"  said  the  Onondaga. 

"Then  the  Long  Knives  came  on  the  sea  in  the 
East  and  there  was  neither  buffaloes  nor  Mengwe," 
answered  the  Mound-Builder,  who  did  not  like  these 
interruptions.  He  went  on  describing  the  Kaskas 
kia  Trail.  "It  led  along  the  highlands  around  the 
upper  waters  of  the  Miami  and  the  drowned  lands 
of  the  Wabash.  It  was  a  wonderful  trip  in  the 
month  of  the  Moon  Halting,  when  there  was  a 
sound  of  dropping  nuts  and  the  woods  were  all  one 
red  and  yellow  rain.  But  in  summer  ...  I  should 
know,"  said  the  Mound-Builder;  "I  carried  a  pipe 
as  far  as  Little  Miami  once  ..." 

126 


YOUNG-MAN-WHO-NEVER-TURNS-BACK 

He  broke  off  as  though  the  recollection  was  not 
altogether  a  happy  one  and  began  to  walk  away 
from  the  wood,  along  the  trail,  which  broadened 
quickly  to  a  graded  way,  and  led  up  the  slope  of 
a  high  green  mound. 

The  children  followed  him  without  a  word. 
They  understood  that  they  had  come  to  the  place 
in  the  Story  of  the  Trails,  which  is  known  in  the 
schoolbooks  as  "History."  From  the  top  of  the 
mound  they  could  see  strange  shapes  of  earth 
works  stretching  between  them  and  the  shore  of 
Erie.  Lakeward  the  sand  and  the  standing  grass 
was  the  pale  color  of  the  moon  that  floated  above 
it  in  the  midday  sky.  Between  them  the  blue  of 
the  lake  melted  into  the  blue  horizon;  the  turf  over 
the  mounds  was  thick  and  wilted. 

"I  suppose  I  must  remember  it  like  this,"  said 
the  Tallega,  "because  this  is  the  way  I  saw  it  when 
I  came  back,  an  old  man,  after  the  fall  of  Cahokia. 
But  when  this  mound  was  built  there  were  towns 
here,  busy  and  crowded.  The  forest  came  close 
up  on  one  side,  and  along  the  lake  front,  field 
touched  field  for  a  day's  journey.  My  town  was 
the  middle  one  of  three  of  the  Eagle  Clan.  Our 
Town  House  stood  here,  on  the  top  of  this  mound, 
and  on  that  other,  the  tallest,  stood  the  god-house, 
with  the  Sacred  Fire,  and  the  four  old  men  watchers 
to  keep  it  burning." 

"I  thought,"  said  Oliver,  trying  to  remember 

127 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

what  he  had  read  about  it,  "that  the  mounds  were 
for  burials.  People  dig  into  them,  you  know." 

"They  might  think  that,"  agreed  the  Tallega, 
"if  all  they  know  comes  from  what  they  find  by 
digging.  They  were  for  every  purpose  that  build 
ings  are  used  for,  but  we  always  thought  it  a  good 
omen  if  we  could  start  a  Town  Mound  with  the 
bones  of  some  one  we  had  loved  and  respected. 
First,  we  laid  a  circle  of  stones  and  an  altar  with 
a  burnt  offering,  then  the  bones  of  the  chief,  or 
some  of  our  heroes  who  were  killed  in  battle.  Then 
the  women  brought  earth  in  baskets.  And  if  a 
chief  had  served  us  well,  we  sometimes  buried 
him  on  top  and  raised  the  mound  higher  over  him, 
and  the  mound  would  be  known  by  his  name  until 
another  chief  arose  who  surpassed  him. 

"  Then  there  were  earthworks  for  forts  and  signal 
stations.  You'll  find  those  on  the  high  places  over 
looking  the  principal  trails;  there  were  always  heaps 
of  wood  piled  up  for  smoke  signals.  The  circles 
were  for  meeting-places  and  for  games." 

"What  sort  of  games?"  demanded  Oliver. 

"Ball-play  and  races;  all  that  sort  of  thing. 
There  was  a  game  we  played  with  racquets  be 
tween  goals.  Village  played  against  village.  The 
people  would  sit  on  the  earthworks  and  clap  and 
shout  when  the  game  pleased  them,  and  gambled 
everything  they  had  on  their  home-town  players. 

"I  suppose,"  he  added,  looking  around  on  the 

128 


YOUNG-MAN-WHO-NEVER-TURNS-BACK 

green  tumuli,  "I  remember  it  like  this,  because 
when  I  lived  here  I  was  so  full  of  what  was  going 
on  that  I  had  no  time  for  noticing  how  it  looked  to 
me." 

"What  did  go  on?"  both  the  children  wished 
immediately  to  know. 

"Something  different  every  time  the  moon 
changed.  Ice-fishing,  corn-husking.  We  did  every 
thing  together;  that  was  what  made  it  so  interest 
ing.  The  men  let  us  go  to  the  fur  traps  to  carry 
home  the  pelts,  and  we  hung  up  the  birch-bark 
buckets  for  our  mothers  at  the  sugar-boiling.  Maple 
sugar,  you  know.  Then  we  would  persuade  them 
to  ladle  out  a  little  of  the  boiling  sap  into  plates 
that  we  patted  out  of  the  snow,  which  could  al 
ways  be  found  lingering  in  the  hollows,  at  sugar- 
makings.  When  it  was  still  waxy  and  warm,  we 
rolled  up  the  cooled  syrup  and  ate  it  out  of  hand. 

"In  summer  whole  families  would  go  to  the 
bottom  lands  paw-paw  gathering.  Winter  nights 
there  was  story-telling  in  the  huts.  We  had  a  kind 
of  corn,  very  small,  that  burst  out  white  like  a 
flower  when  it  was  parched  ..." 

"Pop-corn!"  cried  both  the  children  at  once.  It 
seemed  strange  that  anything  they  liked  so  much 
should  have  belonged  to  the  Mound-Builders. 

"Why,  that  was  what  we  called  it!"  he  agreed, 
smiling.  "  Our  mothers  used  to  stir  it  in  the  pot  with 
pounded  hickory  nuts  and  bears'  grease.  Good 

129 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

eating!  And  the  trading  trips!  Some  of  our  men 
used  to  go  as  far  as  Little  River  for  chert  which 
they  liked  better  for  arrow-points  than  our  own 
flints,  being  less  brittle  and  more  easily  worked. 
That  was  a  canoe  trip,  down  the  Scioto,  down  the 
0-hey-yo,  up  the  Little  Tenasa  as  far  as  Little 
River.  There  was  adventure  enough  to  please 
everybody. 

"That  bird-shaped  mound,"  he  pointed,  "was 
built  the  time  we  won  the  Eagle-Dancing  against 
all  the  other  villages." 

The  Mound-Builder  drew  out  from  under  his 
feather  robe  a  gorget  of  pearl  shell,  beautifully  en 
graved  with  the  figure  of  a  young  man  dancing  in 
an  eagle-beaked  mask,  with  eagles'  wings  fastened 
to  his  shoulders. 

"Most  of  the  effigy  mounds,"  he  said,  taking 
the  gorget  from  his  neck  to  let  the  children  exam 
ine  it,  "were  built  that  way  to  celebrate  a  treaty 
or  a  victory.  Sometimes,"  he  added,  after  a  pause, 
looking  off  across  the  wide  flat  mounds  between  the 
two  taller  ones,  "they  were  built  like  these,  to  cel 
ebrate  a  defeat.  It  was  there  we  buried  the  Talle- 
gewi  who  fell  in  our  first  battle  with  the  Lenni- 
Lenape." 

"Were  they  Mound-Builders,  too?"  the  children 
asked  respectfully,  for  though  the  man's  voice  was 
sad,  it  was  not  as  though  he  spoke  of  an  enemy. 

"  People  of  the  North,"  he  said,  "hunting-people, 

130 


YOUNG-MAN-WHO-NEVER-TURNS-BACK 

good  foes  and  good  fighters.  But  afterward,  they 
joined  with  the  Mengwe  and  drove  us  from 
the  country.  That  was  a  Mingo,"  —  he  pointed 
to  the  Iroquois  who  had  called  himself  an  Onon- 
daga,  disappearing  down  the  forest  tunnel.  They 
saw  him  a  moment,  with  arrow  laid  to  bow,  the 
sunlight  making  tawny  splotches  on  his  dark  body, 
as  on  the  trunk  of  a  pine  tree,  and  then  they  lost 
him. 

"We  were  planters  and  builders,"  said  the  Tal- 
lega,  "  and  they  were  fighters,  so  they  took  our  lands 
from  us.  But  look,  now,  how  time  changes  all.  Of 
the  Lenni-Lenape  and  the  Mengwe  there  is  only 
a  name,  and  the  mounds  are  still  standing." 

"You  said,"  Oliver  hinted,  "that  you  carried 
a  pipe  once.  Was  that  —  anything  particular?" 

"It  might  be  peace  or  war,"  said  the  Mound- 
Builder.  "  In  my  case  it  was  an  order  for  Council, 
from  which  war  came,  bloody  and  terrible.  A 
Pipe-Bearer's  life  was  always  safe  where  he  was 
recognized,  though  when  there  is  war  one  is  very 
likely  to  let  fly  an  arrow  at  anything  moving  in  the 
trails.  That  reminds  me  ..."  The  Tallega  put 
back  his  feathered  robe  carefully  as  he  leaned  upon 
his  elbow,  and  the  children  snuggled  into  a  little 
depression  at  the  top  of  the  mound  where  the  fire- 
hole  had  been,  to  listen. 

"There  was  a  boy  in  our  town,"  he  began,  "who 
was  the  captain  of  all  our  plays  from  the  time  we 

131 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

first  stole  melons  and  roasting-ears  from  the  town 
gardens.  He  got  us  into  no  end  of  trouble,  but  no 
matter  what  came  of  it,  we  always  stood  up  for 
him  before  the  elders.  There  was  nothing  they 
could  say  which  seemed  half  so  important  to  us 
as  praise  or  blame  from  Ongyatasse.  I  don't  know 
why,  unless  it  was  because  he  could  out-run  and 
out- wrestle  the  best  of  us;  and  yet  he  was  never 
pleased  with  himself  unless  the  rest  of  us  were 
satisfied  to  have  it  that  way. 

"Ongyatasse  was  what  his  mother  called  him. 
It  means  something  very  pretty  about  the  colored 
light  of  evening,  but  the  name  that  he  earned  for 
himself,  when  he  was  old  enough  to  be  Name- 
Seeking,  was  Young-Man- Who-Never-Turns-Back. 
He  was  the  arrow  laid  to  the  bow,  and  he  could 
no  more  take  himself  back  from  the  adventure  he 
had  begun  than  the  shaft  can  come  back  to  the 
bowstring. 

"Before  we  were  old  enough  to  go  up  to  the 
god-house  and  hear  the  sacred  Tellings,  he  had 
half  the  boys  in  our  village  bound  to  him  in  an 
unbreakable  vow  never  to  turn  back  from  any 
thing  we  had  started.  It  got  us  into  a  great  many 
difficulties,  some  of  which  were  ridiculous,  but  it 
had  its  advantages.  The  time  we  chased  a  young 
elk  we  had  raised,  across  the  squash  and  bean  vines 
of  Three  Towns,  we  escaped  punishment  on  the 
ground  of  our  vow.  Any  Tallega  parent  would 

132 


YOUNG-MAN-WHO-NEVER-TURNS-BACK 

think  a  long  time  before  he  expected  his  son  to 
break  a  promise." 

Oliver  kept  to  the  main  point  of  interest.  "Did 
you  get  the  elk?" 

"Of  course.  You  see  we  were  never  allowed  to 
carry  a  man's  hunting  outfit  until  we  had  run  down 
some  big  game,  and  brought  it  in  alive  to  prove 
ourselves  proper  sportsmen.  So  partly  for  that  and 
partly  because  Ongyatasse  always  knew  the  right 
words  to  say  to  everybody,  we  were  forgiven  the 
damage  to  the  gardens. 

"That  was  the  year  the  Lenni-Lenape  came  to 
the  Grand  Council,  which  was  held  here  at  San- 
dusky,  asking  permission  to  cross  our  territory 
toward  the  Sea  on  the  East.  They  came  out  of  Shin- 
aki,  the  Fir-Land,  as  far  as  Namae-Sippu,  and 
stood  crowded  between  the  lakes  north  of  the  river. 
For  the  last  year  or  two,  hunting-parties  of  theirs 
had  been  warned  back  from  trespass,  but  this  was 
the  first  time  we  youngsters  had  seen  anything 
of  them. 

"They  were  fine-looking  fellows,  fierce,  and  tall 
appearing,  with  their  hair  cropped  up  about  their 
ears,  and  a  long  hanging  scalp-lock  tied  with  eagle 
feathers.  At  the  same  time  they  seemed  savage 
to  us,  for  they  wore  no  clothing  but  twisty  skins 
about  their  middles,  ankle-cut  moccasins,  and  the 
Peace  Mark  on  their  foreheads. 

"  Because  of  the  Mark  they  bore  no  weapons  but 

133 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

the  short  hunting-bow  and  wolfskin  quivers,  with 
the  tails  hanging  down,  and  painted  breastbands. 
They  were  chiefs,  by  their  way  of  walking,  and 
one  of  them  had  brought  his  son  with  him.  He 
was  about  Ongyatasse's  age,  as  handsome  as  a 
young  fir.  Probably  he  had  a  name  in  his  own 
tongue,  but  we  called  him  White  Quiver.  Few  of 
us  had  won  ours  yet,  and  his  was  man's  size,  of 
white  deerskin  and  colored  quill-work. 

"  Our  mothers,  to  keep  us  out  of  the  way  of  the 
Big  Eating  which  they  made  ready  for  the  visiting 
chiefs,  had  given  us  some  strips  of  venison.  We 
were  toasting  them  at  a  fire  we  had  made  close  to  a 
creek,  to  stay  our  appetites.  My  father,  who  was 
Keeper  of  the  Smoke  for  that  occasion,  —  I  was 
immensely  proud  of  him,  —  saw  the  Lenape  boy 
watching  us  out  of  the  tail  of  his  eye,  and  motioned 
to  me  with  his  hand  that  I  should  make  him  wel 
come.  My  father  spoke  with  his  hand  so  that 
White  Quiver  should  understand  — "  The  Mound- 
Builder  made  with  his  own  thumb  and  forefinger 
the  round  sign  of  the  Sun  Father,  and  then  the 
upturned  palm  to  signify  that  all  things  should  be 
as  between  brothers.  "I  was  perfectly  willing  to 
do  as  my  father  said,  for,  except  Ongyatasse,  I  had 
never  seen  any  one  who  pleased  me  so  much  as  the 
young  stranger.  But  either  because  he  thought 
the  invitation  should  have  come  from  himself  as 
the  leader  of  the  band,  or  because  he  was  a  little 

134 


YOUNG-MAN-WHO-NEVER-TURNS-BACK 

jealous  of  our  interest  in  White  Quiver,  Ongyatasse 
tossed  me  a  word  over  his  shoulder,  'We  play  with 
no  crop-heads.' 

"  That  was  not  a  true  word,  for  the  Lenni-Lenape 
do  not  crop  the  head  until  they  go  on  the  war-path, 
and  White  Quiver's  hair  lay  along  his  shoulders, 
well  oiled,  with  bright  bits  of  shell  tied  in  it,  glit 
tering  as  he  walked.  Also  it  is  the  rule  of  the  Tellings 
that  one  must  feed  the  stranger.  But  me,  I  was 
never  a  Name-Seeker.  I  was  happy  to  stand  fourth 
from  Ongyatasse  in  the  order  of  our  running.  For 
the  rest,  my  brothers  used  to  say  that  I  was  the 
tail  and  Ongyatasse  wagged  me. 

"Whether  he  had  heard  the  words  or  not,  the 
young  Lenape  saw  me  stutter  in  my  invitation. 
There  might  have  been  a  quiver  in  his  face,  —  at 
my  father's  gesture  he  had  turned  toward  me,  — 
but  there  was  none  in  his  walking.  He  came  straight 
on  toward  our  fire  and  through  it.  Three  strides 
beyond  it  he  drank  at  the  creek  as  though  that  had 
been  his  only  object,  and  back  through  the  fire  to 
his  father.  I  could  see  red  marks  on  his  ankles 
where  the  fire  had  bitten  him,  but  he  never  so 
much  as  looked  at  them,  nor  at  us  any  more  than 
if  we  had  been  trail-grass.  He  stood  at  his  father's 
side  and  the  drums  were  beginning.  Around  the 
great  mound  came  the  Grand  Council  with  their 
feather  robes  and  the  tall  headdresses,  up  the 
graded  way  to  the  Town  House,  as  though  all  the 

135 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

gay  weeds  in  Big  Meadow  were  walking.  It  was 
the  great  spectacle  of  the  year,  but  it  was  spoiled 
for  all  our  young  band  by  the  sight  of  a  slim  youth 
shaking  off  our  fire,  as  if  it  had  been  dew,  from  his 
reddened  ankles. 

"You  see,"  said  the  Mound-Builder,  "it  was 
much  worse  for  us  because  we  admired  him  im 
mensely,  and  Pngyatasse,  who  liked  nothing  bet 
ter  than  being  kind  to  people,  could  n't  help  seeing 
that  he  could  have  made  a  much  better  point 
for  himself  by  doing  the  honors  of  the  village  to  this 
chief's  son,  instead  of  their  both  going  around 
with  their  chins  in  the  air  pretending  not  to  see  one 
another. 

"The  Lenni-Lenape  won  the  permission  they 
had  come  to  ask  for,  to  pass  through  the  territory 
of  the  Tallegewi,  under  conditions  that  were  made 
by  Well-Praised,  our  war-chief;  a  fat  man,  a  won 
derful  orator,  who  never  took  a  straight  course 
where  he  could  find  a  cunning  one.  What  those 
conditions  were  you  shall  hear  presently.  At  the 
time,  we  boys  were  scarcely  interested.  That  very 
summer  we  began  to  meet  small  parties  of  strangers 
drifting  through  the  woods,  as  silent  and  as  much 
at  home  in  them  as  foxes.  But  the  year  had  come 
around  to  the  Moon  of  Sap  Beginning  before  we 
met  White  Quiver  again. 

"A  warm  spell  had  rotted  the  ice  on  the  rivers, 
followed  by  two  or  three  days  of  sharp  cold  and  a 

136 


YOUNG-MAN-WHO-NEVER-TURNS-BACK 

tracking  snow.  We  had  been  out  with  Ongyatasse 
to  look  at  our  traps,  and  then  the  skin-smooth  sur 
face  of  the  river  beguiled  us. 

"We  came  racing  home  close  under  the  high 
west  bank  where  the  ice  was  thickest,  but  as  we 
neared  Bent  Bar,  Young-Man- Who-Never-Turns- 
Back  turned  toward  the  trail  that  cut  down  to  the 
ford  between  the  points  of  Hanging  Wood.  The  ice 
must  have  rotted  more  than  we  guessed,  for  half 
way  across,  Ongyatasse  dropped  through  it  like  a 
pebble  into  a  pot-hole.  Next  to  him  was  Tiakens, 
grandson  of  Well-Praised,  and  between  me  and 
Tiakens  a  new  boy  from  Painted  Turtle.  I  heard 
the  splash  and  shout  of  Tiakens  following  Ongya 
tasse,  —  of  course,  he  said  afterward  that  he  would 
have  gone  to  the  bottom  with  him  rather  than  turn 
back,  but  I  doubt  if  he  could  have  stopped  himself, 
—  and  the  next  thing  I  knew  the  Painted  Turtle 
boy  was  hitting  me  in  the  nose  for  stopping  him, 
and  Kills  Quickly,  who  had  not  seen  what  was 
happening,  had  crashed  into  us  from  behind.  We 
lay  all  sprawled  in  a  heap  while  the  others  hugged 
the  banks,  afraid  to  add  their  weight  to  the  creak 
ing  ice,  and  Ongyatasse  was  beating  about  in  the 
rotten  sludge,  trying  to  find  a  place  firm  enough 
to  climb  out  on. 

"We  had  seen  both  boys  disappear  for  an  in 
stant  as  the  ice  gave  under  them,  but  even  when  we 
saw  them  come  to  the  surface,  with  Ongyatasse 

137 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

holding  Tiakens  by  the  hair,  we  hardly  grasped 
what  had  happened.  The  edge  of  the  ice-cake  had 
taken  Tiakens  under  the  chin  and  he  was  uncon 
scious.  If  Ongyatasse  had  let  go  of  him  he  would 
have  been  carried  under  the  ice  by  the  current,  and 
that  would  have  been  the  last  any  one  would  have 
seen  of  him  until  the  spring  thaw.  But  as  fast  as 
Ongyatasse  tried  to  drag  their  double  weight  onto 
the  ice,  it  broke,  and  before  the  rest  of  us  had 
thought  of  anything  to  do  the  cold  would  have 
cramped  him.  I  saw  Ongyatasse  stuffing  Tiakens's 
hair  into  his  mouth  so  as  to  leave  both  his  hands 
free,  and  then  there  was  a  running  gasp  of  astonish 
ment  from  the  rest  of  the  band,  as  a  slim  figure  shot 
out  of  Dark  Woods,  skimming  and  circling  like  a 
swallow.  We  had  heard  of  the  snowshoes  of  the 
Lenni-Lenape,  but  this  was  the  first  time  we  had 
seen  them.  For  a  moment  we  were  so  taken  up  with 
the  wonder  of  his  darting  pace,  that  it  was  not  until 
we  saw  him  reaching  his  long  shoeing-pole  to  Ongya 
tasse  across  the  ice,  that  we  realized  what  he  was 
doing.  He  had  circled  about  until  he  had  found  ice 
that  held,  and  kicking  off  his  snowshoes,  he  stretched 
himself  flat  on  it.  I  knew  enough  to  catch  him  by 
the  ankles  —  even  then  I  could  n't  help  wondering 
if  the  scar  was  still  there,  for  we  knew  instantly 
who  he  was  —  and  somebody  caught  my  feet, 
spreading  our  weight  as  much  as  possible.  Over  the 
bridge  we  made,  Ongyatasse  and  Tiakens,  who  had 

138 


YOUNG-MAN-WHO-NEVER-TURNS-BACK 

come  to  himself  by  this  time,  crawled  out  on  firm 
ice.  In  a  very  few  minutes  we  had  stripped  them 
of  their  wet  clothing  and  were  rubbing  the  cramp 
out  of  their  legs. 

"  Ongyatasse,  dripping  as  he  was,  pushed  us  aside 
and  went  over  to  White  Quiver,  who  was  stooping 
over,  fastening  his  snowshoes.  It  seemed  to  give  him 
a  great  deal  of  trouble,  but  at  last  he  raised  his  head. 

" '  This  day  I  take  my  life  at  your  hands,'  said 
Ongyatasse. 

•"'  Does  Young  -  Man  -  Who  -  Never  -  Turns  -  Back 
take  so  much  from  a  Crop-Head?'  said  the  Lenni- 
Lenape  in  good  Tallegewi,  which  shows  how  much 
they  knew  of  us  already  and  how  they  began  to 
hate  us. 

"But  when  he  was  touched,  Ongyatasse  had  no 
equal  for  highness. 

"'  Along  with  my  life  I  would  take  friendship 
too,  if  it  were  offered,'  he  said,  and  smiled,  shiver 
ing  as  he  was,  in  a  way  we  knew  so  well  who  had 
never  resisted  it.  We  could  see  the  smile  working 
on  White  Quiver  like  a  spell.  Ongyatasse  put  an 
arm  over  the  Lenape's  shoulders. 

"'Where  the  life  is,  the  heart  is  also,'  he  said, 
'and  if  the  feet  of  Ongyatasse  do  not  turn  back 
from  the  trail  they  have  taken,  neither  does  his 
heart.'  From  his  neck  he  slipped  off  his  amulet  of 
white  deer's  horn  which  brought  him  his  luck  in 
hunting,  and  threw  it  around  the  other's  neck.  r 

139 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

" '  Ongyatasse,  you  have  given  away  your  luck!' 
cried  Tiakens,  whose  head  was  a  little  light  with  the 
blow  the  ice-cake  had  given  him. 

" '  Both  the  luck  and  the  life  of  Young-Man-Who- 
Never-Turns-Back  are  safe  in  the  hands  of  a  Lenni- 
Lenape,'  said  White  Quiver,  as  high  as  one  of  his 
own  fir  trees,  but  he  loosed  a  little  smile  at  the 
corner  of  his  mouth  as  he  turned  to  Tiakens,  chat 
tering  like  a  squirrel.  'Unless  you  find  a  fire  soon, 
Young-Man- Who-Never-Turns-Back  will  have  need 
of  another  friend,'  he  said;  and  picking  up  his  shoe- 
ing-pole,  he  was  off  in  the  wood  again  like  a  wea 
sel  darting  to  cover.  We  heard  the  swish  of  the 
boughs,  heavy  with  new  snow,  and  then  silence. 

"  But  if  we  had  not  been  able  to  forget  him  after 
the  first  meeting,  you  can  guess  how  often  we 
talked  of  him  in  the  little  time  that  was  left  us. 
It  was  not  long.  Tiakens  nearly  died  of  the  chill 
he  got,  and  the  elders  were  stirred  up  at  last  to 
break  up  our  band  before  it  led  to  more  serious 
folly.  Ongyatasse  was  hurried  off  with  a  hunting- 
party  to  Maumee,  and  I  was  sent  to  my  mother's 
brother  at  Flint  Ridge  to  learn  stone-working. 

"  Not  that  I  objected,"  said  the  Tallega.  "  I  have 
the  arrow-maker's  hand."  He  showed  the  children 
his  thumb  set  close  to  the  wrist,  the  long  fingers 
and  the  deep-cupped  palm  with  the  callus  running 
down  the  middle.  "All  my  family  were  clever 
craftsmen,"  said  the  Tallega.  "You  could  tell  my 

140 


YOUNG-MAN-WHO-NEVER-TURNS-BACK 

uncle's  points  anywhere  you  found  them  by  the 
fine,  even  flaking,  and  my  mother  was  the  best 
feather- worker  in  Three  Towns,"  —  he  ran  his 
hands  under  the  folds  of  his  mantle  and  held  it  out 
for  the  children  to  admire  the  pattern.  "Uncle 
gave  me  this  banner  stone  as  the  wage  of  my  sum 
mer's  work  with  him,  and  I  thought  myself  overpaid 
at  the  time." 

"But  what  did  you  do?"  asked  both  children 
at  once. 

"Everything,  from  knocking  out  the  crude 
flakes  with  a  stone  hammer  to  shaping  points  with 
a  fire-hardened  tip  of  deer's  horn.  The  ridge  was 
miles  long  and  free  to  any  one  who  chose  to  work 
it,  but  most  people  preferred  to  buy  the  finished 
points  and  blades.  There  was  a  good  trade,  too, 
in  turtle-backs."  The  Tallega  poked  about  in  the 
loose  earth  at  the  top  of  the  mound  and  brought 
up  a  round,  flattish  flint  about  the  size  of  a  man's 
hand,  that  showed  disk-shaped  flakings  arranged 
like  the  marking  of  a  turtle-shelL  "  They  were  kept 
workable  by  being  buried  in  the  earth,  and  made 
into  knives  or  razors  or  whatever  was  needed,"  he 
explained. 

"That  summer  we  had  a  tremendous  trade  in 
broad  arrow-points,  such  as  are  used  for  war  or 
big  game.  We  sold  to  all  the  towns  along  the 
north  from  Maumee  to  the  headwaters  of  the 
Susquehanna,  and  we  sold  to  the  Lenni-Lenape. 

141 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

They  would  appear  suddenly  on  the  trails  with 
bundles  of  furs  or  copper,  of  which  they  had  a 
great  quantity,  and  when  they  were  satisfied  with 
what  was  offered  for  it,  they  would  melt  into  the 
woods  again  like  quail.  My  uncle  used  to  ask  me  a 
great  many  questions  about  them  which  I  remem 
bered  afterward.  But  at  the  time  —  you  see  there 
was  a  girl,  the  daughter  of  my  uncle's  partner. 
She  was  all  dusky  red  like  the  tall  lilies  at  Big 
Meadow,  and  when  she  ran  in  the  village  races 
with  her  long  hair  streaming,  they  called  her  Flying 
Star. 

"She  used  to  bring  our  food  to  us  when  we 
opened  up  a  new  working,  a  wolf's  cry  from  the 
old,  —  sizzling  hot  deer  meat  and  piles  of  boiled 
corn  on  bark  platters,  and  meal  cakes  dipped  in 
maple  syrup.  I  stayed  on  till  the  time  of  tall  weeds 
as  my  father  had  ordered,  and  then  for  a  while 
longer  for  the  new  working,  which  interested  me 
tremendously.  First  we  brought  hickory  wood 
and  built  a  fire  on  the  exposed  surface  of  the  ridge. 
Then  we  splintered  the  hot  stone  by  throwing 
water  on  it,  and  dug  out  the  splinters.  In  two  or 
three  days  we  had  worked  clean  through  the  ledge 
of  flint  to  the  limestone  underneath.  This  we  also 
burnt  with  fire,  after  we  had  protected  the  fresh  flint 
by  plastering  it  with  clay.  When  we  had  cleared 
a  good  piece  of  the  ledge,  we  could  hammer  it  off 
with  the  stone  sledges  and  break  it  up  small  for 

142 


YOUNG-MAN-WHO-NEVER-TURNS-BACK 

working.  It  was  as  good  sport  to  me  as  moose- 
hunting  or  battle. 

4 'We  had  worked  a  man's  length  under  the  ledge, 
and  one  day  I  looked  up  with  the  sun  in  my  eyes, 
as  it  reddened  toward  the  west,  and  saw  Ongya- 
tasse  standing  under  a  hickory  tree.  He  was  dressed 
for  running,  and  around  his  mouth  and  on  both 
his  cheeks  was  the  white  Peace  Mark.  I  made  the 
proper  sign  to  him  as  to  one  carrying  orders. 

"'You  are  to  come  with  me,'  he  said.  'We 
carry  a  pipe  to  Miami.'" 


IX 

HOW  THE  LENNI-LENAPE  CAME  FROM  SHINAKI  AND 
THE  TALLEGEWI  FOUGHT  THEM:  THE  SECOND  PART 
OF  THE  MOUND-BUILDER'S  STORY 

"  Two  things  I  thought  as  I  looked  at  Never-Turns- 
Back,  black  against  the  sun.  First,  that  it  could 
be  no  very  great  errand  that  he  ran  upon,  or  they 
would  never  have  trusted  it  to  a  youth  without 
honors;  and  next,  that  affairs  at  Three  Towns 
must  be  serious,  indeed,  if  they  could  spare  no  older 
man  for  pipe-carrying.  A  third  came  to  me  in  the 
night  as  I  considered  how  little  agreement  there 
was  between  these  two,  which  was  that  there  must 
be  more  behind  this  sending  than  a  plain  call  to 
Council. 

"Ongyatasse  told  me  all  he  knew  as  we  lay  up 
the  next  night  at  Pigeon  Roost.    There  had  not 

144 


HOW  THE  LENNI-LENAPE  CAME 

been  time  earlier,  for  he  had  hurried  off  to  carry 
his  pipe  to  the  village  of  Flint  Ridge  as  soon  as  he 
had  called  me,  and  we  had  padded  out  on  the 
Scioto  Cut-off  at  daybreak.  • 

"What  he  said  went  back  to  the  conditions  that 
were  made  by  Well-Praised  for  the  passing  of  the 
Lenni-Lenape  through  our  territory.  They  were 
to  go  in  small  parties,  not  more  than  twenty  fight 
ing  men  to  any  one  of  them.  They  were  to  change 
none  of  our  landmarks,  enter  none  of  our  towns 
without  permission  from  the  Town  Council,  and 
to  keep  between  the  lake  and  the  great  bend  of 
the  river,  which  the  Lenni-Lenape  called  Alle 
gheny,  but  was  known  to  us  as  the  River  of  the 
Tallegewi. 

"  Thus  they  had  begun  to  come,  few  at  first,  like 
the  trickle  of  melting  ice  in  the  moon  of  the  Sun 
Returning,  and  at  the  last,  like  grasshoppers  in 
the  standing  corn.  They  fished  out  our  rivers  and 
swept  up  the  game  like  fire  in  the  forest.  Three 
Towns  sent  scouts  toward  Fish  River  who  reported 
that  the  Lenape  swarmed  in  the  Dark  Wood,  that 
they  came  on  from  Shinaki  thick  as  their  own  firs. 
Then  the  Three  Towns  took  council  and  sent  a 
pipe  to  the  Eagle  villages,  to  the  Wolverines  and 
the  Painted  Turtles.  These  three  kept  the  coun 
try  of  the  Tallegewi  on  the  north  from  Maumee 
to  the  headwaters  of  the  Allegheny,  and  Well- 
Praised  was  their  war  leader. 

145 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

"Still,"  said  the  Mound-Builder,  "except  that 
he  was  the  swiftest  runner,  I  could  n't  understand 
why  they  had  chosen  an  untried  youth  for  pipe- 
carrying." 

He  felt  in  a  pouch  of  kit  fox  with  the  tail  at 
tached,  which  hung  from  the  front  of  his  girdle  like 
the  sporran  of  a  Scotch  Highlander.  Out  of  it  he 
drew  a  roll  of  birch  bark  painted  with  juice  of  poke- 
berries.  The  Tallega  spread  it  on  the  grass,  weight 
ing  one  end  with  the  turtle-back,  as  he  read,  with 
the  children  looking  over  his  shoulder* 


Well-Praised,  war-chief  of  the  Eagle  Clan  to  the 
Painted  Turtles;  —  Greeting. 


Come  to  the  Council  House  at  Three  Towns. 


On  the  fifth  day  of  the  Moon  Halting. 


We  meet  as  Brothers. 

"An  easy  scroll  to  read,"  said  the  Tallega,  as 
the  released  edges  of  the  birch-bark  roll  clipped  to- 

146 


HOW  THE  LENNI-LENAPE  CAME 

gether.  "But  there  was  more  to  it  than  that.  There 
was  an  arrow  play;  also  a  question  that  had  to  be 
answered  in  a  certain  way.  Ongyatasse  did  not 
tell  me  what  they  were,  but  I  learned  at  the  first 
village  where  we  stopped. 

"This  is  the  custom  of  pipe-carrying.  When  we 
approached  a  settlement  we  would  show  ourselves 
to  the  women  working  in  the  fields  or  to  children 
playing,  anybody  who  would  go  and  carry  word 
to  the  Head  Man  that  the  Pipe  was  coming.  It 
was  in  order  to  be  easily  recognized  that  Ongya 
tasse  wore  the  Peace  Mark." 

The  Mound-Builder  felt  in  his  pouch  for  a  lump 
of  chalky  white  clay  with  which  he  drew  a  wide 
mark  around  his  mouth,  and  two  cheek-marks  like 
a  parenthesis.  It  would  have  been  plain  as  far  as 
one  could  see  him. 

"That  was  so  the  villages  would  know  that  one 
came  with  Peace  words  in  his  mouth,  and  make  up 
their  minds  quickly  whether  they  wanted  to  speak 
with  him.  Sometimes  when  there  was  quarreling 
between  the  clans  they  would  not  receive  a  messen 
ger.  But  even  in  war-times  a  man's  life  was  safe 
as  long  as  he  wore  the  White  Mark." 

"Ours  is  a  white  flag,"  said  Oliver. 

The  Mound-Builder  nodded. 

"All  civilized  peoples  have  much  the  same  cus 
toms,"  he  agreed,  "but  the  Lenni-Lenape  were 
savages. 

147 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

"We  lay  that  night  at  Pigeon  Roost  in  the  Scioto 
Bottoms  with  wild  pigeons  above  us  thick  as  black 
berries  on  the  vines.  They  woke  us  going  out  at 
dawn  like  thunder,  and  at  mid-morning  they  still 
darkened  the  sun.  We  cut  into  the  Kaskaskia 
Trail  by  a  hunting-trace  my  uncle  had  told  us  of, 
and  by  the  middle  of  the  second  day  we  had  made 
the  first  Eagle  village.  When  we  were  sure  we  had 
been  seen,  we  sat  down  and  waited  until  the  women 
came  bringing  food.  Then  the  Head  Man  came  in 
full  dress  and  smoked  with  us." 

Out  of  his  pouch  the  Tallega  drew  the  eagle- 
shaped  ceremonial  pipe  of  red  pipestone,  and  when 
he  had  fitted  it  to  the  feathered  stem,  blew  a  salu 
tatory  whiff  of  smoke  to  the  Great  Spirit. 

"Thus  we  did,  and  later  in  the  Council  House 
there  were  ceremonies  and  exchange  of  messages. 
It  was  there,  when  all  seemed  finished,  that  I  saw 
the  arrow  play  and  heard  the  question. 

"Ongyatasse  drew  an  arrow  from  his  quiver  and 
scraped  it.  There  was  dried  blood  on  the  point, 
which  makes  an  arrow  untrue  to  its  aim,  but  it  was 
no  business  for  a  youth  to  be  cleaning  his  arrows 
before  the  elders  of  the  Town  House;  therefore, 
I  took  notice  that  this  was  the  meat  of  his  message. 
Ongyatasse  scraped  and  the  Head  Man  watched 
him. 

"'There  are  many  horned  heads  in  the  forest 
this  season,'  he  said  at  last. 

148 


HOW  THE  LENNI-LENAPE  CAME 

'"Very  many,'  said  Ongyatasse;  'they  come 
into  the  fields  and  eat  up  the  harvest.' 

"'In  that  case,'  said  the  Head  Man,  'what 
should  a  man  do?' 

"'What  can  he  do  but  let  fly  at  them  with  a 
broad  arrow?'  said  Ongyatasse,  putting  up  his  own 
arrow,  as  a  man  puts  up  his  work  when  it  is  finished. 

"But  as  the  arrow  was  not  clean,  and  as  the 
Lenni-Lenape  had  shot  all  the  deer,  if  I  had  not 
known  that  Well-Praised  had  devised  both  ques 
tion  and  answer,  it  would  have  seemed  all  foolish 
ness.  There  had  been  no  General  Council  since 
the  one  at  which  the  treaty  of  passage  was  made 
with  the  Lenni-Lenape;  therefore  I  knew  that  the 
W7ar-Chief  had  planned  this  sending  of  dark  mes 
sages  in  advance,  messages  which  no  Young-Man- 
Who-Never-Turns-Back  had  any  right  to  under 
stand. 

'"But  why  the  Painted  Scroll?'  I  said  to  Ongya 
tasse  ;  for  if,  as  I  supposed,  the  real  message  was  in 
the  question  and  answer,  I  could  not  see  why  there 
should  still  be  a  Council  called. 

"'The  scroll,'  said  my  friend,  'is  for  those  who 
are  meant  to  be  fooled  by  it.' 

'"But  who  should  be  fooled?' 

"'Whoever  should  stop  us  on  the  trail.' 

"'My  thoughts  do  not  move  so  fast  as  my  feet, 
O  my  friend,'  said  I.  'Who  would  stop  a  pipe- 
carrier  of  the  Tallegewi?  " 

149 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

"'What  if  it  should  be  the  Horned  Heads?'  said 
Ongyatasse. 

"That  was  a  name  we  had  given  the  Lenni- 
Lenape  on  account  of  the  feathers  they  tied  to  the 
top  of  their  hair,  straight  up  like  horns  sprouting. 
Of  course,  they  could  have  had  no  possible  excuse 
for  stopping  us,  being  at  peace,  but  I  began  to  put 
this  together  with  things  Ongyatasse  had  told  me, 
particularly  the  reason  why  no  older  man  than  he 
could  be  spared  from  Three  Towns.  He  said  the 
men  were  rebuilding  the  stockade  and  getting  in 
the  harvest. 

"The  middle  one  of  Three  Towns  was  walled,  a 
circling  wall  of  earth  half  man  high,  and  on  top 
of  that,  a  stockade  of  planted  posts  and  wattles. 
It  was  the  custom  in  war-times  to  bring  the  women 
and  the  corn  into  the  walled  towns  from  the  open 
villages.  But  there  had  been  peace  so  long  in 
Tallega  that  our  stockade  was  in  great  need  of 
rebuilding,  and  so  were  the  corn  bins.  Well- 
Praised  was  expecting  trouble  with  the  Lenni- 
Lenape,  I  concluded;  but  I  did  not  take  it  very 
seriously.  The  Moon  of  Stopped  Waters  was  still 
young  in  the  sky,  and  the  fifth  day  of  the  Moon 
Halting  seemed  very  far  away  to  me. 

"We  were  eleven  days  in  all  carrying  the  Pipe 
to  the  Miami  villages,  and  though  they  fed  us  well 
at  the  towns  where  we  stopped,  we  were  as  thin 
as  snipe  at  the  end  of  it.  It  was  our  first  impor- 

150 


HOW  THE  LENNI-LENAPE  CAME 

tant  running,  you  see,  and  we  wished  to  make 
a  record.  We  followed  the  main  trails  which  fol 
lowed  the  watersheds.  Between  these,  we  plunged 
down  close-leaved,  sweating  tunnels  of  under 
brush,  through  tormenting  clouds  of|  flies.  In 
the  bottoms  the  slither  of  our  moccasins  in  the 
black  mud  would  wake  clumps  of  water  snakes, 
big  as  a  man's  head,  that  knotted  themselves 
together  in  the  sun.  There  is  a  certain  herb 
which  snakes  do  not  love  which  we  rubbed  on  our 
ankles,  but  we  could  hear  them  rustle  and  hiss  as 
we  ran,  and  the  hot  air  was  all  a-click  and  a-glitter 
with  insects'  wings;  .  .  .  also  there  were  trumpet 
flowers,  dusky-throated,  that  made  me  think  of 
my  girl  at  Flint  Ridge.  .  .  .  Then  we  would  come 
out  on  long  ridges  where  oak  and  hickory  shoul 
dered  one  another  like  the  round-backed  billows  of 
the  lake  after  the  storm.  We  made  our  record. 
And  for  all  that  we  were  not  so  pressed  nor  so  over 
come  with  the  dignity  of  our  errand  that  we  could 
not  spare  one  afternoon  to  climb  up  to  the  Wa- 
bashiki  Beacon.  It  lies  on  the  watershed  between 
the  headwaters  of  the  Maumee  and  the  Wabash, 
a  cone-shaped  mound  and  a  circling  wall  within 
which  there  was  always  wood  piled  for  the  beacon 
light,  the  Great  Gleam,  the  Wabashiki,  which 
could  be  seen  the  country  round  for  a  two  days' 
journey.  The  Light-Keeper  was  very  pleased  with 
our  company  and  told  us  old  tales  half  the  night 

151 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

long,  about  how  the  Beacon  had  been  built  and  how 
it  was  taken  by  turns  by  the  Round  Heads  and  the 
Painted  Turtles.  He  asked  us  also  if  we  had  seen 
anything  of  a  party  of  Lenni-Lenape  which  he  had 
noted  the  day  before,  crossing  the  bottoms  about 
an  hour  after  he  had  sighted  us.  He  thought  they 
must  have  gone  around  by  Crow  Creek,  avoiding 
the  village,  and  that  we  should  probably  come  up 
with  them  the  next  morning,  which  proved  to  be 
the  case. 

"They  rose  upon  us  suddenly  as  we  dropped 
down  to  the  east  fork  of  the  Maumee,  and  asked 
us  rudely  where  we  were  going.  They  had  no  right, 
of  course,  but  they  were  our  elders,  to  whom  it  is 
necessary  to  be  respectful,  and  they  were  rather 
terrifying,  with  their  great  bows,  tall  as  they  were, 
stark  naked  except  for  a  strip  of  deerskin,  and  their 
feathers  on  end  like  the  quills  of  an  angry  porcu 
pine.  We  had  no  weapons  ourselves,  except  short 
hunting-bows,  —  one  does  not  travel  with  peace  on 
his  mouth  and  a  war  weapon  at  his  back,  —  so  we 
answered  truly,  and  Ongyatasse  read  the  scroll  to 
them,  which  I  thought  unnecessary. 

"'Now,  I  think,'  said  my  friend,  when  the 
Lenape  had  left  us  with  some  question  about  a 
hunting-party,  which  they  had  evidently  invented 
to  excuse  their  rudeness,  'that  it  was  for  such  as 
these  that  the  scroll  was  written.'  But  we  could 
not  understand  why  Well-Praised  should  have  gone 

152 


HOW  THE  LENNI-LENAPE  CAME 

to  all  that  trouble  to  let  the  Lenni-Lenape  know 
that  he  had  called  a  Council. 

"When  we  had  smoked  our  last  pipe,  we  were 
still  two  or  three  days  from  Three  Towns,  and  we 
decided  to  try  for  a  cut-off  by  a  hunting-trail  which 
Ongyatasse  had  been  over  once,  years  ago,  with 
his  father.  These  hunting-traces  go  everywhere 
through  the  Tallegewi  Country.  You  can  tell  them 
by  the  way  they  fork  from  the  main  trails  and, 
after  a  day  or  two,  thin  into  nothing.  We  traveled 
well  into  the  night  from  the  place  that  Ongyatasse 
remembered,  so  as  to  steer  by  the  stars,  and  awoke 
to  the  pleasant  pricking  of  adventure.  But  we  had 
gone  half  the  morning  before  we  began  to  be  sure 
that  we  were  followed. 

"Jays  that  squawked  and  fell  silent  as  we 
passed,  called  the  alarm  again  a  few  minutes  later. 
A  porcupine  which  we  saw,  asleep  upon  a  log, 
woke  up  and  came  running  from  behind  us.  We 
thought  of  the  Lenni-Lenape.  Where  a  bare  surface 
of  rock  across  our  path  made  it  possible  to  turn  out 
without  leaving  a  track,  we  stole  back  a  few  paces 
and  waited.  Presently  we  made  out,  through  the 
thick  leaves,  a  youth,  about  our  age  we  supposed, 
for  his  head  was  not  cropped  and  he  was  about  the 
height  of  Ongyatasse.  When  we  had  satisfied  our 
selves  that  he  was  alone,  we  took  pleasure  in  puz 
zling  him.  As  soon  as  he  missed  our  tracks  in  the 
trail,  he  knew  that  he  was  discovered  and  played 

153 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

quarry  to  our  fox  very  craftily.  For  an  hour  or 
two  we  stalked  one  another  between  the  buckeye 
boles,  and  then  I  stepped  on  a  rotten  log  which 
crumbled  and  threw  me  noisily.  The  Lenape  let 
fly  an  arrow  in  our  direction.  We  were  nearing  a 
crest  of  a  ridge  where  the  underbrush  thinned  out, 
and  as  soon  as  we  had  a  glimpse  of  his  naked  legs 
slipping  from  tree  to  tree,  Ongyatasse  made  a  dash 
for  him.  We  raced  like  deer  through  the  still  woods, 
Ongyatasse  gaining  on  the  flying  figure,  and  I  about 
four  laps  behind  him.  A  low  branch  swished  blind- 
ingly  across  my  eyes  for  a  moment,  and  when  I 
could  look  again,  the  woods  were  suddenly  still 
and  empty. 

"I  dropped  instantly,  for  I  did  not  know  what 
this  might  mean,  and  creeping  cautiously  to  the 
spot  where  I  had  last  seen  them,  I  saw  the  earth 
opening  in  a  sharp,  deep  ravine,  at  the  bottom  of 
which  lay  Ongyatasse  with  one  leg  crumpled  under 
him.  I  guessed  that  the  Lenape  must  have  led  him 
to  the  edge  and  then  slipped  aside  just  in  time 
to  let  the  force  of  Ongyatasse's  running  carry  him 
over.  Without  waiting  to  plan,  I  began  to  climb 
down  the  steep  side  of  the  ravine.  About  halfway 
down  I  was  startled  by  a  rustling  below,  and,  creep 
ing  along  the  bottom  of  the  bluff,  I  saw  the  Lenni- 
Lenape  with  his  knife  between  his  teeth,  within 
an  arm's  length  of  my  friend.  I  cried  out,  and  in 
a  foolish  effort  to  save  him,  I  must  have  let  go  of 

154 


HOW  THE  LENNI-LENAPE  CAME 

the  ledge  to  which  I  clung.  The  next  thing  I  knew 
I  was  lying  half-stunned,  with  a  great  many  pains  in 
different  parts  of  me,  at  the  bottom  of  the  ravine, 
almost  within  touch  of  Ongyatasse  and  a  young 
Lenape  with  an  amulet  of  white  deer's  horn  about 
his  neck  and,  across  his  back,  what  had  once  been 
a  white  quiver.  He  was  pouring  water  from  a 
birch-bark  cup  upon  my  friend,  and  as  soon  as  he 
saw  that  my  eyes  were  opened  he  came  and  offered 
me  a  drink.  There  did  not  seem  to  be  anything 
to  say,  so  we  said  nothing,  but  presently,  when  I 
could  sit  up,  he  washed  the  cut  on  the  back  of  my 
head,  and  then  he  showed  me  that  Ongyatasse's 
knee  was  out  of  place,  and  said  that  we  ought  to 
pull  it  back  before  he  came  to  himself. 

"  I  crawled  over  —  I  had  saved  myself  by  falling 
squarely  on  top  of  White  Quiver  so  that  nothing 
worse  happened  to  me  than  sore  ribs  and  a  finger 
broken  —  and  took  my  friend  around  the  body 
while  our  enemy  pulled  the  knee,  and  Ongyatasse 
groaned  aloud  and  came  back.  Then  White  Quiver 
tied  up  my  finger  in  a  splint  of  bark,  and  we  en 
dured  our  pains  and  said  nothing. 

"We  were  both  prisoners  of  the  Lenape.  So  we 
considered  ourselves;  we  waited  to  see  what  he 
would  do  about  it.  Toward  evening  he  went  off 
for  an  hour  and  returned  with  a  deer  which  he 
dressed  very  skillfully  and  gave  us  to  eat.  Then, 
of  the  wet  hide,  he  made  a  bandage  for  Ongya- 

155 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

tasse's  knee,  which  shrunk  as  it  dried  and  kept 
down  the  swelling. 

"'Now  I  shall  owe  you  my  name  as  well  as  my 
life,'  said  Ongyatasse,  for  if  his  knee  had  not  been 
properly  attended,  that  would  have  been  the  end 
of  his  running. 

" '  Then  your  new  name  would  be  Well-Friended,' 
said  the  Lenape,  and  he  made  a  very  good  story 
of  how  I  had  come  tumbling  down  on  both  of 
them.  We  laughed,  but  Ongyatasse  had  another 
question. 

"'There  was  peace  on  my  mouth  and  peace  be 
tween  Lenni-Lenape  and  Tallegewi.  Why  should 
you  chase  us?' 

'"The  Tallegewi  send  a  Pipe  to  the  Three  Clans. 
Will  you  swear  that  the  message  that  went  with  it 
had  nothing  to  do  with  the  Lenni-Lenape?' 

" '  What  should  two  boys  know  of  a  call  to  Coun 
cil?'  said  Ongyatasse,  and  showed  him  the  birch- 
bark  scroll,  to  which  White  Quiver  paid  no  atten 
tion. 

'"There  is  peace  between  us,  and  a  treaty,  the 
terms  of  which  were  made  by  the  Tallegewi,  all  of 
which  we  have  kept.  We  have  entered  no  town  with 
out  invitation.  When  one  of  our  young  men  stole 
a  maiden  of  yours  we  returned  her  to  her  village.' 
He  went  on  telling  many  things,  new  to  us,  of  the 
highness  of  the  Lenni-Lenape.  'All  this  was  agreed 
at  the  Three  Towns  by  Cool  Waters,'  said  he.  '  Now 

156 


HOW  THE  LENNI-LENAPE  CAME 

comes  a  new  order.  We  may  not  enter  the  towns 
at  all.  The  treaty  was  for  camping  privileges  in 
any  one  place  for  the  space  of  one  moon.  Now,  if 
we  are  three  days  in  one  place,  we  are  told  that  we 
must  move  on.  The  Lenni-Lenape  are  not  Two- 
Talkers.  If  we  wear  peace  on  our  mouths  we  wear 
it  in  our  hearts  also.' 

'  There  is  peace  between  your  people  and  mine, 
and  among  the  Tallegewi,  peace.' 

"'So,'  said  White  Quiver.  'Then  why  do  they 
rebuild  their  stockades  and  fetch  arrow-stone  from 
far  quarries?  And  why  do  they  call  a  Council  in 
the  Moon  of  the  Harvest?' 

"I  remembered  the  good  trade  my  uncle,  the 
arrow-maker,  had  had  that  summer,  and  was 
amazed  at  his  knowledge  of  it,  so  I  answered  as 
I  had  been  taught.  'If  I  were  a  Lenape,'  said  I, 
'  and  thought  that  the  Councils  of  the  Tallegewi 
threatened  my  people,  I  would  know  what  those 
Councils  were  if  I  made  myself  a  worm  in  the  roof- 
tree  to  overhear  it.' 

"Aye,'  he  said,  'but  you  are  only  a  Tallega.' 

"  He  was  like  that  with  us,  proud  and  humble  by 
turns.  Though  he  was  a  naked  savage,  traveling 
through  our  land  on  sufferance,  he  could  make  us 
crawl  in  our  hearts  for  the  Tallegewi.  He  suspected 
us  of  much  evil,  most  of  which  was  true  as  it  turned 
out;  yet  all  the  time  we  lay  at  the  bottom  of  the 
ravine,  for  the  most  part  helpless,  he  killed  every 

157 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

day  for  us,  and  gathered  dry  grass  to  make  a  bed 
for  Ongyatasse. 

"We  talked  no  more  of  the  Council  or  of  our  er 
rand,  but  as  youths  will,  we  talked  of  highness, 
and  of  big  game  in  Shinaki,  and  of  the  ways  of 
the  Tallegewi,  of  which  for  the  most  part  he  was 
scornful. 

"Corn  he  allowed  us  as  a  great  advantage,  but 
of  our  towns  he  doubted  whether  they  did  not 
make  us  fat  and  Two-Talkers. 

'Town  is  a  trade-maker,'  he  said;  'men  who 
trade  much  for  things,  will  also  trade  for  honor.' 

"'The  Lenni-Lenape  carry  their  honor  in  their 
hands,'  said  Ongyatasse,  'but  the  Tallegewi  carry 
theirs  in  their  forehead.' 

"He  meant,"  said  the  Mound-Builder,  turning 
to  the  children,  "that  the  Lenni-Lenape  fought 
for  what  they  held  most  dear,  and  the  Tallegewi 
schemed  and  plotted  for  it.  That  was  as  we  were 
taught.  With  us,  the  hand  is  not  lifted  until  the 
head  has  spoken.  But  as  it  turned  out,  between 
Tallegewi  and  Lenape,  the  fighters  had  the  best 
of  it." 

He  sighed,  making  the  salutation  to  the  dead  as 
he  looked  off,  across  the  burial-grounds,  to  the 
crumbling  heap  of  the  god-house. 

"But  I  don't  understand,"  said  Dorcas;  "were 
Ongyatasse  and  White  Quiver  friends  or  enemies?" 

"  They  were  two  foes  who  loved  one  another,  and 

158 


HOW  THE  LENNI-LENAPE  CAME 

though  their  tribes  fell  into  long  and  bloody  war, 
between  these  two  there  was  highness  and,  at  the 
end,  most  wonderful  kindness.  The  first  time  that 
we  got  Ongyatasse  to  his  feet  and  he  found  that  his 
knee,  though  feeble,  was  as  good  as  ever,  he  said  to 
White  Quiver,  leaning  on  his  shoulder,  — 

' '  Concerning  the  call  to  Council,  there  was  more 
to  it  than  was  written  on  the  scroll,  the  meaning  of 
which  was  hidden  from  me  who  carried  it.' 

"'Which  is  no  news  to  me,'  said  the  Lenni- 
Lenape;  'also,'  he  said,  'the  message  was  arranged 
beforehand,  for  it  required  no  answer.' 

"  I  asked  him  how  he  knew  that,  and  he  mocked 
at  me. 

"'Any  time  these  five  days  you  could  have  gone 
forward  with  the  answer  had  it  been  important 
for  you  to  get  back  to  Cool  Waters!' 

"That  was  true.  I  could  have  left  Ongyatasse 
and  gone  on  alone,  but  nothing  that  had  happened 
so  far  had  made  us  think  that  we  must  get  back 
quickly.  White  Quiver  asked  us  one  day  what 
reason  Well-Praised  had  given  for  requiring  that 
the  Lenni-Lenape  should  pass  through  the  country 
with  not  more  than  twenty  fighting  men  in  the 
party.  To  save  the  game,  we  told  him,  which 
seemed  to  us  reasonable ;  though  I  think  from  that 
hour  we  began  to  feel  that  the  Tallegewi,  with  all 
their  walled  towns  and  monuments,  had  been  put 
somehow  in  the  wrong  by  the  wild  tribes  of  Shinaki. 

159 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

"We  stayed  on  in  the  ravine,  waiting  on  Ongya- 
tasse's  knee,  until  we  saw  the  new  rim  of  the  Halt 
ing  Moon  curled  up  like  a  feather.  The  leaves  of 
the  buckeye  turned  clear  yellow  and  the  first  flock 
of  wild  geese  went  over.  We  waited  one  more 
day  for  White  Quiver  to  show  us  a  short  cut  to  the 
Maumee  Trail,  and  just  when  we  had  given  him 
up,  we  were  aware  of  a  strange  Lenape  in  war 
paint  moving  among  the  shadows.  He  stood  off 
from  us  with  his  arms  folded  and  his  face  was  as 
bleak  as  a  winter-bitten  wood. 

"'Wash  the  lie  from  your  mouth,'  he  said,  'and 
follow.' 

"Without  a  word  he  turned  and  began  to  move 
from  us  through  the  smoky  light  with  which  the 
wood  was  filling.  His  head  was  cropped  for  war  — 
that  was  why  we  did  not  know  him  —  and  along 
the  shoulder  he  turned  toward  us  was  the  long 
scrape  of  a  spear-point.  That  was  why  we  fol 
lowed,  saying  nothing.  Toward  daylight  the  lame 
knee  began  to  give  trouble.  White  Quiver  came 
back  and  put  his  shoulder  under  Ongyatasse's, 
so  we  moved  forward,  wordlessly.  Birds  awoke  in 
the  woods,  and  hoarfrost  lay  white  on  the  crisped 
grasses. 

"On  a  headland  from  which  the  lake  glinted 
white  as  a  blade  of  flint  on  the  horizon,  we  waited 
the  sunrise.  Smoke  arose,  from  Wabashiki,  from 
the  direction  of  the  Maumee  settlements,  from  the 

160 


HOW  THE  LENNI-LENAPE  CAME 

lake  shore  towns;  tall  plumes  of  smoke  shook  and 
threatened.  Curtly,  while  we  ate,  White  Quiver 
told  us  what  had  happened;  how  the  Tallegewi,  in 
violation  of  the  treaty,  had  fallen  suddenly  on 
scattered  bands  of  the  Lenni-Lenape  and  all  but 
exterminated  them.  The  Tallegewi  said  that  it 
was  because  they  had  discovered  that  the  Lenni- 
Lenape  had  plotted  to  fall  upon  our  towns,  as  soon 
as  the  corn  was  harvested,  and  take  them.  But 
White  Quiver  thought  that  the  whole  thing  was  a 
plan  of  Well-Praised  from  the  beginning.  He  had 
been  afraid  to  refuse  passage  to  the  Lenape,  on 
account  of  their  great  numbers,  and  had  arranged 
to  have  them  broken  up  in  small  parties  so  that 
they  could  be  dealt  with  separately." 

"And  which  was  it?"  Oliver  wished  to  know. 

"It  was  a  thousand  years  ago,"  said  the 
Mound-Builder.  "Who  remembers  ?  But  we  were 
ashamed,  my  friend  and  I,  for  we  understood  now 
that  the  secret  meaning  of  our  message  about  the 
Horned  Heads  had  been  that  the  Tallegewi  should 
fall  upon  the  Lenape  wherever  they  found  them. 
You  remember  that  it  was  part  of  the  question  and 
answer  that  they  '  came  into  the  fields  and  ate  up 
the  harvest.' 

"There  might  have  been  a  plot,  but,  on  the 
other  hand,  we  knew  that  the  painted  scroll  had 
been  a  blind  to  make  the  Lenni-Lenape  think  that 
the  Tallegewi  would  do  nothing  until  they  had 

161 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

taken  counsel.  But  we  had  carried  a  war  message 
with  peace  upon  our  mouths  and  we  were  ashamed 
before  White  Quiver.  We  had  talked  much  high 
ness  with  him,  and  besides,  we  loved  him.  As  it 
turned  out  we  were  not  wrong  in  thinking  he  loved 
us.  As  we  stood  making  out  the  points  of  direction 
for  the  trail,  Ongyatasse's  knee  gave  under  him, 
and  as  White  Quiver  put  out  his  arm  without  think 
ing,  a  tremor  passed  over  them.  They  stood  so 
leaning  each  on  each  for  a  moment.  'Your  trail 
lies  thus  .  .  .  and  thus  .  .  .'  said  the  Lenape,  'but 
I  do  not  know  what  you  will  find  at  the  end  of  it.' 
Then  he  loosed  his  arm  from  my  friend's  shoulder, 
took  a  step  back,  and  the  forest  closed  about  him. 

"We  were  two  days  more  on  the  trail,  though  we 
did  not  go  directly  to  Cool  Waters.  Some  men  of 
the  Painted  Turtles  that  we  met,  told  us  the  fight 
had  passed  from  the  neighborhood  of  the  towns  and 
gathered  at  Bent  Bar  Crossing.  Our  fathers  were 
both  there,  which  we  made  an  excuse  for  joining 
them.  At  several  places  we  saw  evidences  of  fight 
ing.  All  the  bands  of  Lenni-Lenape  that  were  not 
too  far  in  our  territory  had  come  hurrying  back 
toward  Fish  River,  and  other  bands,  as  the  rumor 
of  fighting  spread,  came  down  out  of  Shinaki 
like  buzzards  to  a  carcass.  From  Cool  Waters  to 
Namae-sippu,  the  Dark  Wood  was  full  of  war-cries 
and  groaning.  At  Fish  River  the  Tallegewi  fell 
in  hundreds  .  .  .  there  is  a  mound  there  ...  at 

162 


HOW  THE  LENNI-LENAPE  CAME 

Bent  Bar  the  Lenni-Lenape  held  the  ford,  keeping 
a  passage  open  for  flying  bands  that  were  pressed 
up  from  the  south  by  the  Painted  Turtles.  On- 
gyatasse  went  about  getting  together  his  old  band 
from  the  Three  Towns,  fretting  because  we  were 
not  allowed  to  take  the  front  of  the  battle. 

"Three  days  the  fight  raged  about  the  crossing. 
The  Lenni-Lenape  were  the  better  bowmen;  their 
long  arrows  carried  heavier  points.  Some  that  I 
found  in  the  breasts  of  my  friends,  I  had  made,  and 
it  made  my  own  heart  hot  within  me.  The  third  day, 
men  from  the  farther  lake  towns  came  up  the  river 
in  their  canoes,  and  the  Lenape,  afraid  of  being 
cut  off  from  their  friends  in  the  Dark  Wood,  broke 
across  the  river.  As  soon  as  they  began  to  go,  our 
young  men,  who  feared  the  fight  would  be  over 
without  them,  could  not  be  held  back.  Ongya- 
tasse  at  our  head,  we  plunged  into  the  river  after 
them. 

"Even  in  flight  the  Lenni-Lenape  were  most 
glorious  fighters.  They  dived  among  the  canoes 
to  hack  holes  in  the  bottoms,  and  rising  from  under 
the  sides  they  pulled  the  paddlers  bodily  into  the 
river.  We  were  mad  with  our  first  fight,  we  young 
sters,  for  we  let  them  lead  us  up  over  the  bank  and 
straight  into  ambush.  We  were  the  Young-Men- 
Who-Never-Turned-Back. 

"That  was  a  true  name  for  many  of  us,"  said  the 
Mound-Builder.  "I  remember  Ongyatasse's  shrill 

163 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

eagle  cry  above  the  lG'we!  G'we!'  of  the  Lenni- 
Lenape,  and  the  next  thing  I  knew  I  was  struggling 
in  the  river,  bleeding  freely  from  a  knife  wound,  and 
somebody  was  pulling  me  into  a  canoe  and 
safety." 

"And  Ongyatasse — ?"  The  children  looked  at 
the  low  mound  between  the  Council  Place  and  the 
God-House. 

The  Mound-Builder  nodded. 

"  We  put  our  spears  together  to  make  a  tent  over 
him  before  the  earth  was  piled,"  he  said,  "and  it 
was  good  to  be  able  to  do  even  so  much  as  that  for 
him.  For  we  thought  at  first  we  should  never  find 
him.  He  was  not  on  the  river,  nor  in  our  side  of  the 
Dark  Wood,  and  the  elders  would  not  permit  us  to 
go  across  in  search  of  him.  But  at  daylight  the 
gatherers  of  the  dead  saw  something  moving  from 
under  the  mist  that  hid  the  opposite  bank  of  the 
river.  We  waited,  arrow  on  bowstring,  not  knowing 
if  it  were  one  of  our  own  coming  back  to  us  or  a 
Lenape  asking  for  parley.  But  as  it  drew  near  we 
saw  it  was  a  cropped  head,  and  he  towed  a  dead 
Tallega  by  the  hair.  Ripples  that  spread  out  from 
his  quiet  wake  took  the  sun,  and  the  measured 
dip  of  the  swimmer's  arm  was  no  louder  than  the 
wing  of  the  cooter  that  paddled  in  the  shallows. 

"  It  had  been  a  true  word  that  Ongyatasse  had 
given  his  life  and  his  luck  to  White  Quiver;  the 
Lenape  had  done  his  best  to  give  them  back  again. 

164 


HOW  THE  LENNI-LENAPE  CAME 

As  he  came  ashore  with  the  stiffened  form,  we 
saw  him  take  the  white  deer  amulet  from  his  own 
neck  and  fasten  it  around  the  neck  of  Ongyatasse. 
Then,  disdaining  even  to  make  the  Peace  sign  for 
his  own  safe  returning,  he  plunged  into  the  river 
again,  swimming  steadily  without  haste  until  the 
fog  hid  him." 

The  Mound-Builder  stood  up,  wrapping  his 
feather  mantle  about  him  and  began  to  move  down 
the  slope  of  the  Town  Mound,  the  children  follow 
ing.  There  were  ever  so  many  things  they  wished 
to  hear  about,  which  they  hoped  he  might  be  going 
to  tell  them,  but  halfway  down  he  turned  and 
pointed.  Over  south  and  east  a  thin  blue  film  of 
smoke  rose  up  straight  from  the  dark  forest. 

"  That 's  for  you,  I  think.  Your  friend,  the  Onon- 
daga,  is  signaling  you;  he  knows  the  end  of  the 
story." 

Taking  hands,  the  children  ran  straight  in  the 
direction  of  the  smoke  signal,  along  the  trail  which 
opened  before  them. 


X 

THE  MAKING  OF  A  SHAMAN:  A  TELLING  OF  THE 
IROQUOIS  TRAIL,  BY  THE  ONONDAGA 

DOWN  the  Mound-Builder's  graded  way  the  chil 
dren  ran  looking  for  the  Onondaga.  Like  all  the 
trail  in  the  Museum  Country  it  covered  a  vast 
tract  of  country  in  a  very  little  while,  so  that  it  was 
no  time  at  all  before  they  came  out  among  high, 
pine-covered  swells,  that  broke  along  the  water 
courses  into  knuckly  granite  headlands.  From  one 
of  these,  steady  puffs  of  smoke  arose,  and  a  moment 
later  they  could  make  out  the  figure  of  an  Indian 
turning  his  head  from  side  to  side  as  he  searched 
the  surrounding  country  with  the  look  of  eagles. 
They  knew  him  at  once,  by  the  Medicine  bundle 
at  his  belt  and  the  slanting  Iroquois  feather,  for 
their  friend  the  Onondaga. 

166 


THE  MAKING  OF  A  SHAMAN 

"I  was  looking  for  you  by  the  lake  shore  trail," 
he  explained  as  Oliver  and  Dorcas  Jane  climbed  up 
to  him.  "You  must  have  come  by  the  Musking- 
ham-Mahoning;  it  drops  into  the  Trade  Trail  of 
the  Iroquois  yonder,"  —  he  pointed  south  and 
east,  —  "the  Great  Trail,  from  the  Mohican-ittuck 
to  the  House  of  Thunder."  He  meant  the  Hudson 
River  and  the  Falls  of  Niagara.  "Even  at  our  vil 
lage,  which  was  at  the  head  of  the  lake  here,  we 
could  hear  the  Young  Thunders,  shouting  from 
behind  the  falls,"  he  told  them. 

A  crooked  lake  lay  below  them  like  a  splinter  of 
broken  glass  between  the  headlands.  From  the  far 
end  of  it  the  children  could  see  smoke  rising.  "We 
used  to  signal  our  village  from  here  when  we  went 
on  the  war-trail,"  said  the  Onondaga;  "we  would 
cut  our  mark  on  a  tree  as  we  went  out,  and  as  we 
came  back  we  added  the  war  count.  I  was  looking 
for  an  old  score  of  mine  to-day." 

"Had  it  anything  to  do  with  the  Mound- 
Builders?"  Dorcas  wished  to  know.  "He  said  you 
knew  the  end  of  that  story." 

The  Onondaga  shook  his  head. 

"That  was  a  hundred  years  before  my  time,  and 
is  a  Telling  of  the  Lenni-Lenape.  In  the  Red  Score 
it  is  written,  the  Red  Score  of  the  Lenni-Lenape. 
When  my  home  was  in  the  village  there,  the  Five 
Nations  held  all  the  country  between  the  lakes 
and  the  Mohican-ittuck.  But  there  were  many 

167 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

small  friendly  tribes  along  the  borders,  Algonquian 
mostly." 

He  squatted  on  his  heels  beside  the  fire  and  felt 
in  his  belt  for  the  pipe  and  tobacco  pouch  without 
which  no  Telling  proceeds  properly. 

"  In  my  youth,"  said  the  Onondaga,  "  I  was  very 
unhappy  because  I  had  no  Vision.  When  my  time 
came  I  walked  in  the  forest  and  ate  nothing,  but 
the  Mystery  would  not  speak  to  me.  Nine  days  I 
walked  fasting,  and  then  my  father  came  to  find  me 
under  a  pine  tree,  with  my  eyes  sunk  in  my  head  and 
my  ribs  like  a  basket.  But  because  I  was  ashamed 
I  told  him  my  Mystery  was  something  that  could 
not  be  talked  about,  and  so  I  told  the  Shaman. 

"My  father  was  pleased  because  he  thought  it 
meant  that  I  was  to  be  a  very  great  Shaman  my 
self,  and  the  other  boys  envied  me.  But  in  my 
heart  I  was  uneasy.  I  did  not  know  what  to  make 
of  my  life  because  the  Holder  of  the  Heavens  had 
not  revealed  himself  to  me.  To  one  of  my  friends 
he  had  appeared  as  an  eagle,  which  meant  that 
he  was  to  be  a  warrior,  keen  and  victorious;  and 
to  another  as  a  fox,  so  that  he  studied  cunning; 
but  without  any  vision  I  did  not  know  what  to 
make  of  myself.  My  heart  was  slack  as  a  wetted 
bowstring.  My  father  reproached  me. 

'"The  old  women  had  smoke  in  their  eyes,'  he 
said;  'they  told  me  I  had  a  son,  now  I  see  it  is  a 
woman  child.' 

168 


THE  MAKING  OF  A  SHAMAN 

"My  mother  was  kinder.  'Tell  me,'  she  said, 
'what  evil  dream  unknots  the  cords  of  your  heart?' 

"So  at  last  I  told  her. 

"My  mother  was  a  wise  woman.  'To  a  dog  or 
a  child,'  she  said,  'one  speaks  the  first  word  on  the 
lips,  but  before  a  great  Shaman  one  considers  care 
fully.  What  is  a  year  of  your  life  to  the  Holder  of 
the  Heavens?  Go  into  the  forest  and  wait  until  his 
message  is  ripe  for  you.'  She  was  a  wise  woman. 

"So  I  put  aside  my  bow  and  quiver,  and  with 
them  all  desire  of  meat  and  all  thought  of  killing. 
With  my  tomahawk  I  cut  a  mark  in  that  chestnut 
yonder  and  buried  my  weapon  at  the  foot  of  it.  I 
had  my  knife,  my  pipe,  and  my  fire-stick.  Also  I  felt 
happy  and  important  because  my  mother  had  made 
me  believe  that  the  Holder  of  the  Heavens  thought 
well  of  me.  I  was  giving  him  a  year  in  which  to  tell 
me  what  to  do  with  my  life. 

"I  turned  east,  for,  I  said,  from  the  east  light 
comes.  It  was  an  old  trail  even  in  those  days. 
It  follows  the  watershed  from  the  lake  to  Oneida, 
and  clears  the  Mohawk  Valley  northward.  It  was 
the  Moon  of  Tender  Leaves  when  I  set  out,  and  by 
the  time  nuts  began  to  ripen  I  had  come  to  the 
lowest  hills  of  the  Adirondacks. 

"Sometimes  I  met  hunting-parties  or  women 
gathering  berries,  and  bought  corn  and  beans  from 
them,  but  for  the  most  part  I  lived  on  seeds  and 
roots  and  wild  apples. 

169 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

"  By  the  time  I  had  been  a  month  or  two  without 
killing,  the  smell  of  meat  left  me.  Rabbits  ran  into 
my  hands,  and  the  mink,  stealing  along  the  edge  of 
the  marsh  to  look  for  frogs,  did  not  start  from  me. 
Deer  came  at  night  to  feed  on  the  lily  buds  on  the 
lake  borders.  They  would  come  stealing  among  the 
alders  and  swim  far  out  to  soak  their  coats.  When 
they  had  made  themselves  mosquito-proof,  they 
would  come  back  to  the  lily  beds  and  I  would  swim 
among  them  stilly,  steering  by  the  red  reflection 
of  my  camp-fire  in  their  eyes.  When  my  thought 
that  was  not  the  thought  of  killing  touched  them, 
they  would  snort  a  little  and  return  to  the  munching 
of  lilies,  and  the  trout  would  rise  in  bubbly  rings 
under  my  arms  as  I  floated.  But  though  I  was  a 
brother  to  all  the  Earth,  the  Holder  of  the  Heavens 
would  not  speak  to  me. 

"Sometimes,  when  I  had  floated  half  the  night 
between  the  hollow  sky  of  stars  and  its  hollow  re 
flection,  the  Vision  seemed  to  gather  on  the  surface 
of  the  water.  It  would  take  shape  and  turn  to  the 
flash  of  a  loon's  wet  wing  in  the  dawning.  Or  I 
would  sit  still  in  the  woods  until  my  thought  was  as 
a  tree,  and  the  squirrels  would  take  me  for  a  tree 
and  run  over  me.  Then  there  would  come  a  strange 
stir,  and  the  creeping  of  my  flesh  along  my  spine 
until  the  Forest  seemed  about  to  speak  .  .  .  and 
suddenly  a  twig  would  snap  or  a  jay  squawk,  and 
I  would  be  I  again,  and  the  tree  a  tree  .  . . 

170 


THE  MAKING  OF  A  SHAMAN 

"It  was  the  first  quarter  of  the  Moon  of  Falling 
Leaves,"  said  the  Onondaga  filling  his  pipe  again 
and  taking  a  fresh  start  on  his  story.  "  There  was  a 
feel  in  the  air  that  comes  before  the  snow,  but  I  was 
very  happy  in  my  camp  by  a  singing  creek  far  up 
on  the  Adirondacks,  and  kept  putting  off  moving 
the  camp  from  day  to  day.  And  one  evening  when 
I  came  in  from  gathering  acorns,  I  discovered  that 
I  had  had  a  visitor.  Mush  of  acorn  meal  which  I 
had  left  in  my  pot  had  been  eaten.  That  is  right, 
of  course,  if  the  visitor  is  hungry;  but  this  one  had 
wiped  out  his  tracks  with  a  leafy  bough,  which 
looked  like  trickery. 

"  It  came  into  my  mind  that  it  might  have  been 
one  of  the  Gahonga,  the  spirits  that  dwell  in 
rocks  and  rivers  and  make  the  season  fruitful." 

"Oh!"  cried  Dorcas,  "Indian  fairies!  Did  you 
have  those?" 

"There  are  spirits  in  all  things,"  said  the  Onon 
daga  gravely.  "There  are  Odowas,  who  live  in  the 
underworld  and  keep  back  the  evil  airs  that  bring 
sickness.  You  can  see  the  bare  places  under  the 
pines  where  they  have  their  dancing-places.  And 
there  are  the  Gandaiyah  who  loose  wild  things 
from  the  traps  and  bring  dew  on  the  strawberry 
blossoms.  But  all  these  are  friendly  to  man.  So 
I  cooked  another  pot  of  food  and  lay  down  in  my 
blanket.  I  sleep  as  light  as  a  wild  thing  myself. 
In  the  middle  of  the  night  I  was  wakened  by 

171 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

the  sound  of  eating.  Presently  I  heard  something 
scrape  the  bottom  of  the  pot,  and  though  I  was 
afraid,  I  could  not  bear  to  have  man  or  spirit  go 
from  my  camp  hungry.  So  I  spoke  to  the  sound. 

"'  There  is  food  hanging  in  the  tree,'  I  said.  I 
had  hung  it  up  to  keep  the  ants  from  it.  But  as 
soon  as  I  finished  speaking  I  heard  the  Thing  creep 
ing  away.  In  the  morning  I  found  it  had  left  the 
track  of  one  small  torn  moccasin  and  a  strange  mis 
shapen  lump.  It  came  up  from  and  disappeared 
into  the  creek,  so  I  was  sure  it  must  have  been  a 
Gahonga.  But  that  evening  as  I  sat  by  my  fire 
I  was  aware  of  it  behind  me.  No,  I  heard  nothing; 
I  felt  the  thought  of  that  creature  touching  my 
thought.  Without  looking  round  I  said,  'What  is 
mine  is  yours,  brother.'  Then  I  laid  dry  wood  on 
the  fire,  and  getting  up  I  walked  away  without 
looking  back.  But  when  I  was  out  of  the  circle  of 
light  I  looked  and  I  saw  the  Thing  come  out  of  the 
brush  and  warm  its  hands. 

"Then  I  knew  that  it  was  human,  so  I  dropped 
my  blanket  over  it  from  behind  and  it  lay  without 
moving.  I  thought  I  had  killed  it,  but  when  I  lifted 
the  blanket  I  saw  that  it  was  a  girl,  and  she  was  all 
but  dead  with  fright.  She  lay  looking  at  me  like 
a  deer  that  I  had  shot,  waiting  for  me  to  plunge  in 
the  knife.  It  is  a  shame  to  any  man  to  have  a  girl 
look  at  him  as  that  one  looked  at  me.  I  made  the 
sign  of  friendship  and  set  food  before  her,  and  water 

172 


THE  MAKING  OF  A  SHAMAN 

in  a  cup  of  bark.  Then  I  saw  what  had  made  the 
clumsy  track;  it  was  her  foot  which  she  had  cut  on 
the  rocks  and  bound  up  with  strips  of  bark.  Also 
she  was  sick  with  fright  and  starvation. 

"For  two  days  she  lay  on  my  bed  and  ate  what 
I  gave  her  and  looked  at  me  as  a  trapped  thing 
looks  at  the  owner  of  the  trap.  I  tried  her  with 
all  the  dialects  I  knew,  and  even  with  a  few  words 
I  had  picked  up  from  a  summer  camp  of  Wabaniki. 
I  had  met  them  a  week  or  two  before  at  Owenunga, 
at  the  foot  of  the  mountains. 

"She  put  her  hand  over  her  mouth  and  looked 
sideways  to  find  a  way  out  of  the  trap. 

"  I  was  sorry  for  her,  but  she  was  a  great  nui 
sance.  I  was  so  busy  getting  food  for  her  that  I 
had  no  time  to  listen  for  the  Holder  of  the  Heavens, 
and  besides,  there  was  a  thickening  of  the  air,  what 
we  call  the  Breath  of  the  Great  Moose,  which  comes 
before  a  storm.  If  we  did  not  wish  to  be  snowed  in, 
we  had  to  get  down  out  of  the  mountain,  and  on 
account  of  her  injured  foot  we  had  to  go  slowly. 

"  I  had  it  in  mind  to  take  her  to  the  camp  of  the 
Wabaniki  at  Owenunga,  but  when  she  found  out 
where  we  were  going  she  tried  to  run  away.  After 
that  I  carried  her,  for  the  cut  in  her  foot  opened 
and  bled. 

"She  lay  in  my  arms  like  a  hurt  fawn,  but  what 
could  I  do?  There  was  a  tent  of  cloud  all  across  the 
Adirondack,  and  besides,  it  is  not  proper  for  a 

173 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

young  girl  to  be  alone  in  the  woods  with  a  strange 
man,"  said  the  Onondaga,  but  he  smiled  to  himself 
as  he  said  it. 

"It  was  supper-time  when  we  came  to  Crooked 
Water.  There  was  a  smell  of  cooking,  and  the  peo 
ple  gathering  between  the  huts. 

"There  was  peace  between  the  Five  Nations  and 
the  Wabaniki,  so  I  walked  boldly  into  the  circle 
of  summer  huts  and  put  the  girl  down,  while  I 
made  the  stranger's  sign  for  food  and  lodging.  But 
while  my  hand  was  still  in  the  air,  there  was  a 
shout  and  a  murmur  and  the  women  began  snatch 
ing  their  children  back.  I  could  see  them  huddling 
together  like  buffalo  cows  when  their  calves  are 
tender,  and  the  men  pushing  to  the  front  with 
caught-up  weapons  in  their  hands. 

"I  held  up  my  own  to  show  that  they  were 
weaponless. 

'"I  want  nothing  but  food  and  shelter  for  this 
poor  girl,'  I  said.  I  had  let  her  go  in  order  to  make 
the  sign  language,  for  I  had  but  a  few  words  of  their 
tongue.  She  crouched  at  my  feet  covering  her  face 
with  her  long  hair.  The  people  stood  off  without 
answering,  and  somebody  raised  a  cry  for  Waba- 
mooin.  It  was  tossed  about  from  mouth  to  mouth 
until  it  reached  the  principal  hut,  and  presently  a 
man  came  swaggering  out  in  the  (Jress  of  a  Medicine 
Man.  He  was  older  than  I,  but  he  was  also  fat, 
and  for  all  his  Shaman's  dress  I  was  not  frightened. 

174 


THE  MAKING  OF  A  SHAMAN 

I  knew  by  the  way  the  girl  stopped  crying  that  she 
both  knew  and  feared  him. 

"The  moment  Waba-mooin  saw  her  he  turned 
black  as  a  thunderhead.  He  scattered  words  as  a 
man  scatters  seeds  with  his  hand.  I  was  too  far  to 
hear  him,  but  the  people  broke  out  with  a  shower 
of  sticks  and  stones.  At  that  the  girl  sprang  up  and 
spread  her  arms  between  me  and  the  people,  crying 
something  in  her  own  tongue,  but  a  stone  struck 
her  on  the  point  of  the  shoulder.  She  would  have 
dropped,  but  I  caught  her.  I  held  her  in  my  arms 
and  looked  across  at  the  angry  villagers  and  Waba- 
mooin.  Suddenly  power  came  upon  me  ... 

"It  is  something  all  Indian,"  said  the  Onon- 
daga,  —  "something  White  Men  do  not  under 
stand.  It  is  Magic  Medicine,  the  power  of  the 
Shaman,  the  power  of  my  thought  meeting  the 
evil  thought  of  the  Wabaniki  and  turning  it  back 
as  a  buffalo  shield  turns  arrows.  I  gathered  up  the 
girl  and  walked  away  from  that  place  slowly  as  be 
comes  a  Shaman.  No  more  stones  struck  me;  the 
arrow  of  Waba-mooin  went  past  me  and  stuck  hi 
an  oak.  My  power  was  upon  me. 

"I  must  have  walked  half  the  night,  hearing  the 
drums  at  Crooked  Water  scaring  away  evil  influ 
ences.  I  would  feel  the  girl  warm  and  soft  in  my 
arms  as  a  fawn,  and  then  after  a  time  she  would 
seem  to  be  a  part  of  me.  The  trail  found  itself  un 
der  my  feet;  I  was  not  in  the  least  wearied.  The 

175 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

girl  was  asleep  when  I  laid  her  down,  but  toward 
morning  she  woke,  and  the  moment  I  looked  in  her 
eyes,  I  knew  that  whatever  they  had  stoned  her  for 
at  Owenunga,  her  eyes  were  friendly. 

"'M'toulin,'  she  said,  which  is  the  word  in  her 
language  for  Shaman,  'what  will  you  do  with  me?' 

"There  was  nothing  I  could  do  but  take  her  to 
my  mother  as  quickly  as  possible.  There  was  a 
wilderness  of  hills  to  cross  before  we  struck  the 
trail  through  Mohawk  Valley.  That  afternoon  the 
snow  began  to  fall  in  great  dry  flakes,  thickening 
steadily.  The  girl  walked  when  she  could,  but  most 
of  the  time  I  carried  her.  I  had  the  power  of  a  Sha 
man,  though  the  Holder  of  the  Heavens  had  not  yet 
spoken  to  me. 

"We  pushed  to  the  top  of  the  range  before  rest 
ing,  and  all  night  we  could  hear  the  click  and  crash 
of  deer  and  moose  going  down  before  the  snow.  All 
the  next  day  there  was  one  old  bull  moose  kept  just 
ahead  of  us.  We  knew  he  was  old  because  of  his 
size  and  his  being  alone.  Two  or  three  times  we 
passed  other  bulls  with  two  or  three  cows  and  their 
calves  of  that  season  yarding  among  the  young 
spruce,  but  the  old  bull  kept  on  steadily  down  the 
mountain.  His  years  had  made  him  weather-wise. 
The  third  day  the  wind  shifted  the  snow,  and  we  saw 
him  on  the  round  crown  of  a  hill  below  us,  tracking." 

The  Onondaga  let  his  pipe  go  out  while  he  ex 
plained  the  winter  habits  of  moose. 

176 


THE  MAKING  OF  A  SHAMAN 

"When  the  snow  is  too  deep  for  yarding,"  he 
said,  "they  look  for  the  lower  hills  that  have  been 
burnt  over,  so  that  the  growth  is  young  and  tender. 
When  the  snow  is  soft,  after  a  thaw,  they  will  track 
steadily  back  and  forth  until  the  hill  is  laced  with 
paths.  They  will  work  as  long  as  the  thaw  lasts, 
pushing  the  soft  snow  with  their  shoulders  to  release 
the  young  pine  and  the  birches.  Then,  when  the 
snow  crusts,  they  can  browse  all  along  the  paths 
for  weeks,  tunneling  far  under. 

"We  saw  our  bull  the  last  afternoon  as  we  came 
down  from  the  cloud  cap,  and  then  the  white  blast 
cut  us  off  and  we  had  only  his  trail  to  follow.  When 
we  came  to  the  hill  we  could  still  hear  him  thrash 
ing  about  in  his  trails,  so  I  drew  down  the  boughs 
of  a  hemlock  and  made  us  a  shelter  and  a  fire.  For 
two  days  more  the  storm  held,  with  cold  wind  and 
driven  snow.  About  the  middle  of  the  second  day 
I  heard  a  heavy  breathing  above  OUT  hut,  and 
presently  the  head  of  the  moose  came  through  the 
hemlock  thatch,  and  his  eyes  were  the  eyes  of  a 
brother.  So  I  knew  my  thought  was  still  good,  and 
I  made  room  for  him  in  the  warmth  of  the  hut.  He 
moved  out  once  or  twice  to  feed,  and  I  crept  after 
him  to  gather  grass  seeds  and  whatever  could  be 
found  that  the  girl  could  eat.  We  had  had  nothing 
much  since  leaving  the  camp  at  Crooked  Water. 

"And  by  and  by  with  the  hunger  and  anxiety 
about  Nukewis,  which  was  the  name  she  said  she 

177 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

should  be  called  by,  my  thought  was  not  good  any 
more.  I  would  look  at  the  throat  of  the  moose  as 
he  crowded  under  the  hemlock  and  think  how  easily 
I  could  slit  it  with  my  knife  and  how  good  moose 
meat  toasted  on  the  coals  would  taste.  I  was  glad 
when  the  storm  cleared  and  left  the  world  all  white 
and  trackless.  I  went  out  and  prayed  to  the  Holder 
of  the  Heavens  that  he  would  strengthen  me  in  the 
keeping  of  my  vow  and  also  that  he  would  not  let 
the  girl  die. 

"While  I  prayed  a  rabbit  that  had  been  huddling 
under  the  brush  and  the  snow,  came  hopping  into 
my  trail;  it  hopped  twice  and  died  with  the  cold. 
I  took  it  for  a  sign;  but  when  I  had  cooked  it  and 
was  feeding  it  to  the  girl  she  said :  — 

"'Why  do  you  not  eat,  M'toulin,'  for  we  had 
taught  one  another  a  few  words  of  our  own  speech. 

"'I  am  not  hungry,'  I  told  her. 

" 'While  I  eat  I  can  see  that  your  throat  is  work 
ing  with  hunger,'  she  insisted.  And  it  was  true  I 
could  have  snatched  the  meat  from  her  like  a  wolf, 
but  because  of  my  vow  I  would  not. 

"'M'toulin,  there  is  a  knife  at  your  belt;  why 
have  you  not  killed  the  moose  to  make  meat  for 
us?' 

"Eight  moons  I  have  done  no  killing,  seeking 
the  Vision  and  the  Voice,'  I  told  her.  'It  is  more 
than  my  life  to  me.' 

"When  I  had  finished,  she  reached  over  with  the 

178 


THE  MAKING  OF  A  SHAMAN 

last  piece  of  rabbit  and  laid  it  on  the  fire.  It  was 
a  sacrifice.  As  we  watched  the  flame  lick  it  up, 
all  thought  of  killing  went  out  of  my  head  like 
the  smoke  of  sacrifice,  and  my  thought  was  good 
again. 

"When  the  meat  she  had  eaten  had  made  her 
strong,  Nukewis  sat  up  and  crossed  her  hands  on 
her  bosom. 

"'M'toulin,'  she  said,  'the  evil  that  has  come 
on  you  belongs  to  me.  I  will  go  away  with  it.  I 
am  a  witch  and  bring  evil  on  those  who  are  kind  to 
me.' 

"'Who  says  you  are  a  witch?' 

"'All  my  village,  and  especially  Waba-mooin. 
I  brought  sickness  on  the  village,  and  on  you  hunger 
and  the  breaking  of  your  vow.' 

"'I  have  seen  Waba-mooin,'  I  said.  'I  do  not 
think  too  much  of  his  opinions.' 

"'He  is  the  Shaman  of  my  village,'  said  Nuke 
wis.  '  My  father  was  Shaman  before  him,  a  much 
greater  Shaman  than  Waba-mooin  will  ever  be. 
He  wanted  my  father's  Medicine  bundle  which 
hung  over  the  door  to  protect  me ;  my  father  left  it 
to  me  when  he  died.  But  afterward  there  was  a 
sickness  in  the  village,  and  Waba-mooin  said  it 
was  because  the  powerful  Medicine  bundle  was  left 
in  the  hands  of  an  ignorant  girl.  He  said  for  the 
good  of  the  village  it  ought  to  be  taken  away  from 
me.  But  /  thought  it  was  because  so  many  people 

179 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

came  to  my  house  with  their  sick,  because  of  my 
Medicine  bundle,  and  Waba-mooin  missed  their 
gifts.  He  said  that  if  I  was  not  willing  to  part  with 
my  father's  bundle,  that  he  would  marry  me,  but 
when  I  would  not,  then  he  said  that  I  was  a  witch  1 ' 

"'Where  is  the  bundle  now?'  I  asked  her. 

' '  I  hid  it  near  our  winter  camp  before  we  came 
into  the  mountains.  But  there  was  sickness  in  the 
mountains  and  Waba-mooin  said  that  it  also  was 
my  fault.  So  they  drove  me  out  with  sticks  and 
stones.  That  is  why  they  would  not  take  me  back.' 

"'Then,'  I  said,  'when  Waba-mooin  goes  back 
to  the  winter  camp,  he  will  find  the  Medicine 
bundle.' 

'"He  will  never  find  it,'  she  said,  'but  he  will 
be  the  only  Shaman  in  the  village  and  will  have 
all  the  gifts.  But  listen,  M'toulin,  by  now  the 
people  are  back  in  their  winter  home.  It  is  more 
than  two  days  from  here.  If  you  go  without  me, 
they  will  give  you  food  and  shelter,  but  with  me 
you  will  have  only  hard  words  and  stones.  There 
fore,  I  leave  you,  M'toulin.'  She  stood  up,  made 
a  sign  of  farewell. 

'You  must  show  me  the  way  to  your  village 
first,'  I  insisted. 

"  I  saw  that  she  meant  what  she  said,  and  be 
cause  I  was  too  weak  to  run  after  her,  I  pretended. 
I  thought  that  would  hold  her. 

"We  should  have  set  out  that  moment,  but  a 

180 


THE  MAKING  OF  A  SHAMAN 

strange  lightness  came  in  my  head.  I  do  not  know 
just  what  happened.  I  think  the  storm  must  have 
begun  again  early  in  the  afternoon.  There  was  a 
great  roaring  as  of  wind  and  the  girl  bending  over 
me,  wavering  and  growing  thin  like  smoke.  Twice 
I  saw  the  great  head  of  the  moose  thrust  among 
the  hemlock  boughs,  and  heard  Nukewis  urging 
and  calling  me.  She  lifted  my  hands  and  clasped 
them  round  the  antlers  of  the  moose;  I  could  feel 
his  warm  breath.  .  .  .  He  threw  up  his  head,  draw 
ing  me  from  my  bed,  wonderfully  light  upon  my 
feet.  We  seemed  to  move  through  the  storm.  I 
could  feel  the  hairy  shoulder  of  the  moose  and 
across  his  antlers  Nukewis  calling  me.  I  felt  my 
self  carried  along  like  a  thin  bubble  of  life  in  the 
storm  that  poured  down  from  the  Adirondack  like 
Niagara.  At  last  I  slipped  into  darkness. 

"  I  do  not  know  how  long  this  lasted,  but  pres 
ently  I  was  aware  of  a  light  that  began  to  grow  and 
spread  around  me.  It  came  from  the  face  of  the 
moose,  and  when  I  looked  up  out  of  my  darkness 
it  changed  to  the  face  of  a  great  kind  man.  He  had 
on  the  headdress  of  a  chief  priest,  the  tall  headdress 
of  eagle  plumes  and  antlers.  I  had  hold  of  one  of 
them,  and  his  arm  was  around  and  under  me.  But 
I  knew  very  well  who  held  me. 

" '  You  have  appeared  to  me  at  last,'  I  said  to  him. 

" '  I  have  appeared,  my  son.'  His  voice  was  kind 
as  the  sound  of  summer  waters. 

181 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

"'I  looked  for  you  long,  0  Taryenya-wagon ! ' 

'"You  looked  for  me  among  your  little  brothers 
of  the  wild,'  he  said, '  and  for  you  the  Vision  was 
among  men,  my  son.' 
,    " '  How,  among  men? ' 

" '  What  you  did  for  that  poor  girl  when  you  put 
your  good  thought  between  her  and  harm.  That 
you  must  do  for  men.' 

" '  I  am  to  be  a  Shaman,  then? '  I  thought  of  my 
father. 

"'According  to  a  man's  power,'  said  the  Holder 
of  the  Heavens,  —  'as  my  power  comes  upon 
him..." 

The  Onondaga  puffed  silently  for  a  while  on  his 
pipe. 

-  Dorcas  Jane  fidgeted. "But  I  don't  understand," 
she  said  at  last;  "just  what  was  it  that  happened?  " 

"It  was  my  Mystery,"  said  the  Onondaga;  "my 
Vision  that  came  to  me  out  of  the  fasting  and  the 
sacrifice.  You  see,  there  had  been  very  little  food 
since  leaving  Crooked  Water,  and  Nukewis  — " 

"You  gave  it  all  to  her."  Dorcas  nodded.  "But 
still  I  don't  understand?" 

"The  moose  had  begun  to  travel  down  the 
mountain,  and  like  a  good  brother  he  came  back 
for  me.  Nukewis  lifted  me  up  and  bound  me  to 
his  antlers,  holding  me  from  the  other  side,  but 
I  was  too  weak  to  notice. 

"We  must  have  traveled  that  way  for  hours 

182 


THE  MAKING  OF  A  SHAMAN 

through  the  storm  until  we  reached  the  tall  woods 
below  the  limit  of  the  snow.  When  I  came  to  my 
self,  I  was  lying  on  a  bed  of  fern  in  a  bright  morn 
ing  and  Nukewis  was  cooking  quail  which  she  had 
snared  with  a  slip  noose  made  of  her  hair.  I  ate  — 
I  could  eat  now  that  I  had  had  my  Vision  —  and 
grew  strong.  All  the  upper  mountain  was  white 
like  a  tent  of  deerskin,  but  where  we  were  there 
was  only  thin  ice  on  the  edges  of  the  streams. 

"We  stayed  there  for  one  moon.  I  wished  to  get 
my  strength  back,  and  besides,  we  wished  to  get 
married,  Nukewis  and  I." 

"But  how  could  you,  without  any  party?"  Dor 
cas  wished  to  know.  She  had  never  seen  anybody 
get  married,  but  she  knew  it  was  always  spoken  of 
as  a  Wedding  Party. 

"We  had  the  party  four  months  later  when  we 
got  back  to  my  own  village,"  explained  the  Onon- 
daga.  "For  that  time  I  built  a  hut,  and  when  I 
had  led  her  across  the  door,  as  our  custom  was,  I 
scattered  seeds  upon  her  —  seeds  of  the  pine  tree. 
Then  we  sat  in  our  places  on  either  side  the  fire, 
and  she  made  me  cake  of  acorn  meal,  and  we  made 
a  vow  as  we  ate  it  that  we  would  love  one  another 
always. 

"We  were  very  happy.  I  hunted  and  fished,  and 
the  old  moose  fed  in  our  meadow.  Nukewis  used  to 
gather  armfuls  of  grass  for  him.  When  we  went 
back  to  my  wife's  village  he  trotted  along  in  the 

183 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

trail  behind  us  like  a  dog.  Nukewis  wished  to  go 
back  after  her  father's  Medicine  bag,  and  being 
a  woman  she  did  not  wish  to  go  to  my  mother  with 
out  her  dower.  There  were  many  handsome  skins 
and  baskets  in  her  father's  hut  which  had  been 
given  to  him  when  he  was  Medicine  Man.  She 
felt  sure  Waba-mooin  would  not  have  touched 
them.  And  as  for  me,  I  was  young  enough  to  want 
Waba-mooin  to  see  that  I  was  also  a  Shaman. 

"We  stole  into  Nukewis's  hut  in  the  dark,  and 
when  it  was  morning  a  light  snow  was  over  the 
ground  to  cover  our  tracks,  and  there  was  our 
smoke  going  up  and  the  great  moose  standing  at 
OUT  door  chewing  his  cud  and  over  the  door  the 
Medicine  bag  of  Nukewis's  father.  How  the  neigh 
bors  were  astonished!  They  ran  for  Waba-mooin, 
and  when  I  saw  him  coming  in  all  his  Shaman's 
finery,  I  put  on  the  old  Medicine  Man's  shirt  and 
his  pipe  and  went  out  to  smoke  with  him  as  one 
Shaman  with  another." 

The  Onondaga  laughed  to  himself,  remembering. 
"  It  was  funny  to  see  him  try  to  go  through  with  it, 
but  there  was  nothing  else  for  him  to  do.  I  ought 
to  have  punished  him  a  little  for  what  he  did  to 
Nukewis,  but  my  heart  was  too  full  of  happiness 
and  my  Mystery.  And  perhaps  it  was  punishment 
enough  to  have  me  staying  there  in  the  village  with 
all  the  folk  bringing  me  presents  and  neglecting 
Waba-mooin.  I  think  he  was  glad  when  we  set 

184 


THE  MAKING  OF  A  SHAMAN 

out  for  my  own  village  in  the  Moon  of  the  Sap 
Running. 

"I  knew  my  mother  would  be  waiting  for  me, 
and  besides,  I  wished  my  son  to  be  born  an  Onon- 
daga." 

"And  what  became  of  the  old  moose?" 

"Somewhere  on  the  trail  home  we  lost  him. 
Perhaps  he  heard  his  own  tribe  calling  .  .  .  and 
perhaps  .  .  .  He  was  the  Holder  of  the  Heavens 
to  me,  and  from  that  time  neither  I  nor  my  wife 
ate  any  moose  meat.  That  is  how  it  is  when  the 
Holder  of  the  Heavens  shows  Himself  to  his  chil 
dren.  But  when  I  came  by  the  tree  where  I  had 
cut  the  first  score  of  my  search  for  Him,  I  cut  a 
picture  of  the  great  moose,  with  my  wife  and  I  on 
either  side  of  him." 

The  Onondaga  pointed  with  his  feathered  pipe 
to  a  wide-boled  chestnut  a  rod  or  two  down  the 
slope.  "  It  was  that  I  was  looking  for  to-day,"  he 
said.  "If  you  look  you  will  find  it." 

And  continuing  to  point  with  the  long  feathered 
stem  of  his  pipe,  the  children  rose  quietly  hand  in 
hand  and  went  to  look. 


XI 

THE  PEARLS  OF  COFACHIQUE:  HOW  LUCAS  DE  AYLLON 
CAME  TO  LOOK  FOR  THEM  AND  WHAT  THE  CACICA 
FAR-LOOKING  DID  TO  HIM;  TOLD  BY  THE  PELICAN 

ONE  morning  toward  the  end  of  February  the  chil 
dren  were  sitting  on  the  last  bench  at  the  far  end 
of  the  Bird  Gallery,  which  is  the  nicest  sort  of  place 
to  sit  on  a  raw,  slushy  day.  You  can  look  out  from 
it  on  one  side  over  the  flamingo  colony  of  the  Ba 
hamas,  and  on  the  other  straight  into  the  heart  of 
the  Cuthbert  Rookery  in  Florida.  Just  opposite 
is  the  green  and  silver  coral  islet  of  Cay  Verde, 
with  the  Man-of-War  Birds  nesting  among  the  flat 
leaves  of  the  sea-grape. 

If  you  sit  there  long  enough  and  nobody  comes 
by  to  interrupt,  you  can  taste  the  salt  of  the 

186 


THE  PEARLS  OF  COFACHIQUE 

spindrift  over  the  banks  of  Cay  Verde,  and  watch 
the  palmetto  leaves  begin  to  wave  like  swords  in  the 
sea  wind.  That  is  what  happened  to  Oliver  and 
Dorcas  Jane.  The  water  stirred  and  shimmered 
and  the  long  flock  of  flamingoes  settled  down,  each 
to  its  own  mud  hummock  on  the  crowded  summer 
beaches.  All  at  once  Oliver  thought  of  something. 

"I  wonder,"  he  said,  "if  there  are  trails  on  the 
water  and  through  the  air?  " 

"Why,  of  course,"  said  the  Man-of-War  Bird; 
"how  else  would  we  find  our  islet  among  so  many? 
North  along  the  banks  till  we  sight  the  heads  of 
Nassau,  then  east  of  Stirrup  Cay,  keeping  the  scent 
of  the  land  flowers  to  windward,  to  the  Great  Ba 
hama,  and  west  by  north  to  where  blue  water  runs 
between  the  Biscayne  Keys  to  the  mouth  of  the 
Miami.  That  is  how  we  reach  the  mainland  in 
season,  and  back  again  to  Cay  Verde." 

"  It  sounds  like  a  long  way,"  said  Oliver. 

"That's  nothing,"  said  the  tallest  Flamingo. 
"We  go  often  as  far  east  as  the  Windward  Islands, 
and  west  to  the  Isthmus.  But  the  ships  go  farther. 
We  have  never  been  to  the  place  where  the  ships 
come  from." 

It  was  plain  that  the  Flamingo  was  thinking  of 
a  ship  as  another  and  more  mysterious  bird.  The 
Man-of-War  Bird  seemed  to  know  better.  The 
children  could  see,  when  he  stretched  out  his  seven- 
foot  spread  of  wing,  that  he  was  a  great  traveler.  / 

187 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

"What  /  should  like  to  know,"  he  said,  "is  how 
the  ships  find  their  way.  With  us  we  simply  rise 
higher  and  higher,  above  the  fogs,  until  we  see  the 
islands  scattered  like  green  nests  and  the  banks 
and  shoals  which  from  that  height  make  always  the 
same  pattern  in  the  water,  brown  streaks  of  weed, 
gray  shallows,  and  deep  water  blue.  But  the  ships, 
though  they  never  seem  to  leave  the  surface  of  the 
water,  can  make  a  shorter  course  than  we  in  any 
kind  of  weather." 

Oliver  was  considering  how  he  could  explain  a 
ship's  compass  to  the  birds,  but  only  the  tail  end 
of  his  thinking  slipped  out.  "They  call  some  of 
them  men-of-war,  too,"  he  chuckled. 

"You  must  have  thought  it  funny  the  first  time 
you  saw  one,"  said  Dorcas  Jane. 

"Not  me,  but  my  ancestors,"  said  the  Man-of- 
War  Bird;  "they  saw  the  Great  Admiral  when  he 
first  sailed  in  these  waters.  They  saw  the  three  tall 
galleons  looming  out  of  a  purple  mist  on  the  eve 
of  discovery,  their  topsails  rosy  with  the  sunset 
fire.  The  Admiral  kept  pacing,  pacing;  watching, 
on  the  one  hand,  lest  his  men  surprise  him  with  a 
mutiny,  and  on  the  other,  glancing  overside  for  a 
green  bough  or  a  floating  log,  anything  that  would 
be  a  sign  of  land.  We  saw  him  come  in  pride  and 
wonder,  and  we  saw  him  go  in  chains." 

Like  all  the  Museum  people,  the  Man-of-War 
Bird  said  "we"  when  he  spoke  of  his  ancestors. 

188 


THE  PEARLS  OF  COFACHIQUE 

"There  were1  others,"  said  the  Flamingo.  "I 
remember  an  old  man  looking  for  a  fountain." 

"Ponce  de  Leon,"  supplied  Dorcas  Jane,  proud 
that  she  could  pronounce  it. 

"There  is  no  harm  in  a  fountain,"  said  a  Brown 
Pelican  that  had  come  sailing  into  Cuthbert  Rook 
ery  with  her  wings  sloped  downward  like  a  para 
chute.  "It  was  the  gold-seekers  who  filled  the 
islands  with  the  thunder  of  their  guns  and  the 
smoke  of  burning  huts." 

The  children  turned  toward  the  Pelican  among 
the  mangrove  trees,  crowded  with  nests  of  egret 
and  heron  and  rosy  hornbill. 

The  shallow  water  of  the  lagoon  ran  into  gold- 
tipped  ripples.  In  every  one  the  low  sun  laid  a 
tiny  flake  of  azure.  Over  the  far  shore  there  was 
a  continual  flick  and  flash  of  wings,  like  a  whirlwind 
playing  with  a  heap  of  waste  paper.  Crooked 
flights  of  flamingoes  made  a  moving  reflection  on 
the  water  like  a  scarlet  snake,  but  among  the  queer 
mangrove  stems,  that  did  not  seem  to  know  whether 
they  were  roots  or  branches,  there  was  a  lovely 
morning  stillness.  It  was  just  the  place  and  hour 
for  a  story,  and  while  the  Brown  Pelican  opened 
her  well-filled  maw  to  her  two  hungry  nestlings, 
the  Snowy  Egret  went  on  with  the  subject. 

"They  were  a  gallant  and  cruel  and  heroic  and 
stupid  lot,  the  Spanish  gold-seekers,"  she  said. 
"They  thought  nothing  of  danger  and  hunger, 

189 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

but  they  could  not  find  their  way  without  a 
guide  any  further  than  their  eyes  could  see, 
and  they  behaved  very  badly  toward  the  poor 
Indians." 

"We  saw  them  all,"  said  the  Flamingo, — 
"Cortez  and  Balboa  and  Pizarro.  We  saw  Pan- 
filo  Narvaez  put  in  at  Tampa  Bay,  full  of  zeal  and 
gold  hunger,  and  a  year  later  we  saw  him  at  Appa- 
lache,  beating  his  stirrup  irons  into  nails  to  make 
boats  to  carry  him  back  to  Havana.  We  alone 
know  why  he  never  reached  there." 

The  Pelican  by  this  time  had  got  rid  of  her  load 
of  fish  and  settled  herself  for  conversation.  "  What 
ever  happened  to  them,"  she  said,  "they  came 
back,  —  Spanish,  Portuguese,  and  English,  — 
back  they  came.  I  remember  how  Lucas  de  Ayllon 
came  to  look  for  the  pearls  of  Cofachique  — " 

"Pearls!"  said  the  children  both  at  once. 

"Very  good  ones,"  said  the  Pelican,  nodding 
her  pouched  beak;  "as  large  as  hazel  nuts  and  with 
a  luster  like  a  wet  beach  at  evening.  The  best  were 
along  the  Savannah  River  where  some  of  my  people 
had  had  a  rookery  since  any  of  them  could  remem 
ber.  Ayllon  discovered  the  pearls  when  he  came 
up  from  Hispaniola  looking  for  slaves,  but  it  was 
an  evil  day  for  him  when  he  came  again  to  fill  his 
pockets  with  them,  for  by  that  time  the  lady  of 
Cofachique  was  looking  for  Ayllon." 

"For  Soto,  you  mean,"  said  the  Snowy  Egret,  — 

190 


THE  PEARLS  OF  COFACHIQUE 

"Hernando  de  Soto,  the  Adelantado  of  Florida, 
and  that  is  my  story." 

"It  is  all  one  story,"  insisted  the  Pelican. 
"  Ay  lion  began  it.  His  ship  put  in  at  the  Savannah 
at  the  time  of  the  pearling,  when  the  best  of  our 
young  men  were  there,  and  among  them  Young 
Pine,  son  of  Far-Looking,  the  Chief  Woman. 

"The  Indians  had  heard  of  ships  by  this  time, 
but  they  still  believed  the  Spaniards  were  Children 
of  the  Sun,  and  trusted  them.  They  had  not  yet 
learned  what  a  Spaniard  will  do  for  gold.  They  did 
not  even  know  what  gold  was,  for  there  was  none 
of  it  at  Cofachique.  The  Cacique  came  down  to  the 
sea  to  greet  the  ships,  with  fifty  of  his  best  fighting 
men  behind  him,  and  when  the  Spaniard  invited 
them  aboard  for  a  feast,  he  let  Young  Pine  go 
with  them.  He  was  as  straight  as  a  pine,  the  young 
Cacique,  keen  and  strong-breasted,  and  about  his 
neck  he  wore  a  twist  of  pearls  of  three  strands, 
white  as  sea  foam.  Ayllon's  eyes  glistened  as 
he  looked  at  them,  and  he  gave  word  that  the 
boy  was  not  to  be  mishandled.  For  as  soon  as 
he  had  made  the  visiting  Indians  drunk  with  wine, 
which  they  had  never  tasted  before  and  drank 
only  for  politeness,  the  Spaniard  hoisted  sail  for 
Hispaniola. 

"Young  Pine  stood  on  the  deck  and  heard  his 
father  calling  to  him  from  the  shore,  and  saw  his 
friends  shot  as  they  jumped  overboard,  or  were 

191 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

dragged  below  in  chains,  and  did  not  know  what  t( 
do  at  such  treachery.  The  wine  foamed  in  hi* 
head  and  he  hung  sick  against  the  rail  until  Ayllor 
came  sidling  and  fidgeting  to  find  out  where  the 
pearls  came  from.  He  fingered  the  strand  on  Youn^ 
Pine's  neck,  making  signs  of  friendship. 

"The  ship  was  making  way  fast,  and  the  shore 
of  Cofachique  was  dark  against  the  sun.  Aylloi 
had  sent  his  men  to  the  other  side  of  the  shij 
while  he  talked  with  Young  Pine,  for  he  did  noi 
care  to  have  them  learn  about  the  pearls. 

;t  Young  Pine  lifted  the  strand  from  his  neck,  fo] 
by  Ayllon's  orders  he  was  not  yet  in  chains.  While 
the  Spaniard  looked  it  over  greedily,  the  boy  sa^ 
his  opportunity.  He  gave  a  shout  to  the  sea-birds 
that  wheeled  and  darted  about  the  galleon,  the 
shout  the  fishers  give  when  they  throw  offal  to  the 
gulls,  and  as  the  wings  gathered  and  thickened  tx 
hide  him  from  the  guns,  he  dived  straight  awa> 
over  the  ship's  side  into  the  darkling  water. 

"All  night  he  swam,  steering  by  the  death-firei 
which  the  pearlers  had  built  along  the  beaches,  anc 
just  as  the  dawn  came  up  behind  him  to  turn  th< 
white-topped  breakers  into  green  fire,  the  land  swel 
caught  him.  Four  days  later  a  search  party  lookup 
for  those  who  had  jumped  overboard,  found  hii 
body  tumbled  among  the  weeds  along  the  oute; 
shoals  and  carried  it  to  his  mother,  the  Cacica,  a 
Talimeco. 

192 


She  could  see  the  thoughts  of  a  man  while  they  were  still  in 
his  heart " 


THE  PEARLS  OF  COFACHIQUE 

"  She  was  a  wonderful  woman,  the  Chief  Woman 
of  Cofachique,  and  terrible,"  said  the  Pelican.  "  It 
was  not  for  nothing  she  was  called  Far-Looking. 
She  could  see  the  thoughts  of  a  man  while  they  were 
still  in  his  heart,  and  the  doings  of  men  who  were 
far  distant.  When  she  wished  to  know  what  no 
body  could  tell  her,  she  would  go  into  the  Silence; 
she  would  sit  as  still  as  a  brooding  pelican;  her 
limbs  would  stiffen  and  her  eyes  would  stare  — 

"That  is  what  she  did  the  moment  she  saw  that 
the  twist  of  pearls  was  gone  from  her  son's  neck. 
She  went  silent  with  her  hand  on  his  dead  breast 
and  looked  across  the  seas  into  the  cruel  heart  of  the 
Spaniard  and  saw  what  would  happen.  'He  will 
come  back,'  she  said ; '  he  will  come  back  to  get  what 
I  shall  give  him  for  this.9 

"She  meant  the  body  of  Young  Pine,  who  was 
her  only  son,"  said  the  Pelican,  tucking  her  own 
gawky  young  under  her  breast,  "and  that  is  some 
thing  a  mother  never  forgets.  She  spent  the  rest 
of  her  time  planning  what  she  would  do  to  Lucas 
de  Ayllon  when  he  came  back. 

"There  was  a  lookout  built  in  the  palmetto  scrub 
below  the  pearling  place,  and  every  day  canoes 
scouted  far  to  seaward,  with  runners  ready  in  case 
ships  were  sighted.  Talimeco  was  inland  about  a 
hundred  miles  up  the  river  and  the  Cacica  herself 
seldom  left  it. 

"And  after  four  or  five  years  Ayllon,  with  the 

193 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

three-plied  rope  of  pearls  under  his  doublet,  came 
back. 

"The  Cacica  was  ready  for  him.  She  was  really 
the  Chief  Woman  of  Cofachique,  —  the  Cacique 
was  only  her  husband,  —  and  she  was  obeyed  as  no 
ordinary  woman,"  said  the  Brown  Pelican. 

"She  was  not  an  ordinary  woman,"  said  the 
Snowy  Egret,  fluffing  her  white  spray  of  plumes. 
"If  she  so  much  as  looked  at  you  and  her  glance 
caught  your  eye,  then  you  had  to  do  what  she  said, 
whether  you  liked  it  or  not.  But  most  of  her  peo 
ple  liked  obeying  her,  for  she  was  as  wise  as  she  was 
terrible.  That  was  why  she  did  not  kill  Lucas  de 
Ay  lion  at  the  pearling  place  as  the  Cacique  wished 
her  to  do.  '  If  we  kill  him,'  said  the  Chief  Woman, 
'others  will  come  to  avenge  him.  We  must  send 
him  home  with  such  a  report  that  no  others  of  his 
kind  will  visit  this  coast  again.'  She  had  every 
thing  arranged  for  that." 

The  Egret  settled  to  her  nest  again  and  the 
Pelican  went  on  with  the  story. 

"In  the  spring  of  the  year  Ayllon  came  loafing 
up  the  Florida  coast  with  two  brigantines  and  a 
crew  of  rascally  adventurers,  looking  for  slaves 
and  gold.  At  least  Ayllon  said  he  was  looking  for 
slaves,  though  most  of  those  he  had  carried  away 
the  first  time  had  either  jumped  overboard  or  re 
fused  their  food  and  died.  But  he  had  not  been 
willing  to  tell  anybody  about  the  pearls,  and  he 

194 


THE  PEARLS  OF  COFACHIQUE 

had  to  have  some  sort  of  excuse  for  returning  to 
a  place  where  he  could  n't  be  expected  to  be  wel 
comed. 

"And  that  was  the  first  surprise  he  had  when  he 
put  to  shore  on  the  bluff  where  the  city  of  Savan 
nah  now  stands,  with  four  small  boats,  every  man 
armed  with  a  gun  or  a  crossbow. 

"The  Indians,  who  were  fishing  between  the 
shoals,  received  the  Spaniards  kindly;  sold  them 
fish  and  fresh  fruit  for  glass  beads,  and  showed 
themselves  quite  willing  to  guide  them  in  their 
search  for  slaves  and  gold.  Only  there  was  no  gold: 
nothing  but  a  little  copper  and  stinging  swarms  of 
flies,  gray  clouds  of  midges  and  black  ooze  that 
sucked  the  Spaniards  to  their  thighs,  and  the  clat 
ter  of  scrub  palmetto  leaves  on  their  iron  shirts 
like  the  sound  of  wooden  swords,  as  the  Indians 
wound  them  in  and  out  of  trails  that  began  in 
swamps  and  arrived  nowhere.  Never  once  did  they 
come  any  nearer  to  the  towns  than  a  few  poor  fisher 
huts,  and  never  a  pearl  showed  in  any  Indian's  neck 
lace  or  earring.  The  Chief  Woman  had  arranged  for 
that! 

"All  this  time  she  sat  at  Talimeco  in  her  house 
on  the  temple  mound  — " 

"Mounds!"  interrupted  the  children  both  at 
once.  "  Were  they  Mound-Builders?  " 

"They  built  mounds,"  said  the  Pelican,  "for 
the  Cacique's  house  and  the  God-House,  and  for 

195 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

burial,  with  graded  ways  and  embankments.  The 
one  at  Talimeco  was  as  tall  as  three  men  on  horse 
back,  as  the  Spaniards  discovered  later  —  Soto's 
men,  not  Ayllon's.  They  never  came  within  sound 
of  the  towns  nor  in  sight  of  the  league-long  fields 
of  corn  nor  the  groves  of  mulberry  trees.  They  lay 
with  their  goods  spread  out  along  the  beach  with 
out  any  particular  order  and  without  any  fear  of 
the  few  poor  Indians  they  saw. 

"That  was  the  way  the  Chief  Woman  had  ar 
ranged  it.  All  the  men  who  came  down  to  the 
ships  were  poorly  dressed  and  the  women  wrinkled, 
though  she  was  the  richest  Cacica  in  the  country, 
and  had  four  bearers  with  feather  fans  to  accom 
pany  her.  All  this  time  she  sat  in  the  Silences 
and  sent  her  thoughts  among  the  Spaniards  so  that 
they  bickered  among  themselves,  for  they  were  so 
greedy  for  gold  that  no  half-dozen  of  them  would 
trust  another  half-dozen  out  of  their  sight.  They 
would  lie  loafing  about  the  beaches  and  all  of  a 
sudden  anger  would  run  among  them  like  thin  fire 
in  the  savannahs,  which  runs  up  the  sap  wood  of  the 
pines,  winding,  and  taking  flight  from  the  top  like 
a  bird.  Then  they  would  stab  one  another  in  their 
rages,  or  roast  an  Indian  because  he  would  not  tell 
them  where  gold  was.  For  they  could  not  get  it  out 
of  their  heads  that  there  was  gold.  They  were 
looking  for  another  Peru. 

"  Toward  the  last,  Ayllon  had  to  sleep  in  his  ship 

196 


THE  PEARLS  OF  COFACHIQUE 

at  night  so  jealous  his  captains  were  of  him.  He 
had  a  touch  of  the  swamp  fever  which  takes  the 
heart  out  of  a  man,  and  finally  he  was  obliged  to 
show  them  the  three-plied  rope  of  pearls  to  hold 
them.  To  just  a  few  of  his  captains  he  showed  it, 
but  the  Indian  boy  he  had  taken  to  be  his  servant 
saw  them  fingering  it  in  the  ship's  cabin  and  sent 
word  to  the  Chief  Woman." 

The  sun  rose  high  on  the  lagoon  as  the  Pelican 
paused  in  her  story,  and  beyond  the  rookery  the 
children  could  see  blue  water  and  a  line  of  surf, 
with  the  high-pooped  Spanish  ships  rising  and 
falling.  Beyond  that  were  the  low  shore  and  the 
dark  wood  of  pines  and  the  shining  leaves  of  the 
palmettoes  like  a  lake  spattered  with  the  light  — 
split  by  their  needle  points.  They  could  see  the 
dark  bodies  of  the  Indian  runners  working  their 
way  through  it  to  Talimeco.  The  Pelican  went  on 
with  the  story. 

"'Now  it  is  time,'  said  the  Cacica,  and  the 
Cacique's  Own  —  that  was  a  band  of  picked  fight 
ing  men  —  took  down  their  great  shields  of  woven 
cane  from  the  god-house  and  left  Talimeco  by 
night.  And  from  every  seacoast  town  of  Cofa- 
chique  went  bowmen  and  spearsmen.  They  would 
be  sitting  by  their  hearth-fires  at  evening,  and  in 
the  morning  they  would  be  gone.  At  the  same  time 
there  went  a  delegation  from  Talimeco  to  Lucas 
de  Ayllon  to  say  that  the  time  of  one  of  the  Indian 

197 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

feasts  was  near,  and  to  invite  him  and  his  men  to 
take  part  in  it.  The  Spaniards  were  delighted,  for 
now  they  thought  they  should  see  some  women, 
and  maybe  learn  about  gold.  But  though  scores  of 
Indians  went  down,  with  venison  and  maize  cakes 
in  baskets,  no  women  went  at  all,  and  if  the  Span 
iards  had  not  been  three  fourths  drunk,  that  would 
have  warned  them. 

"When  Indians  mean  fighting  they  leave  the 
women  behind,"  explained  the  Pelican,  and  the 
children  nodded. 

"The  Spaniards  sat  about  the  fires  where  the 
venison  was  roasting,  and  talked  openly  of  pearls. 
They  had  a  cask  of  wine  out  from  the  ship,  and 
some  of  their  men  made  great  laughter  trying  to 
dance  with  the  young  men  of  Cof  achique.  But  one 
of  the  tame  Indians  that  Ayllon  had  brought  from 
Hispaniola  with  him,  went  privately  to  his  master. 
' 1  know  this  dance,'  he  said ; '  it  is  a  dance  of  death.' 
But  Ayllon  dared  do  nothing  except  have  a  small 
cannon  on  the  ship  shot  off,  as  he  said,  for  the 
celebration,  but  really  to  scare  the  Indians." 

"And  they  were  scared?" 

"When  they  have  danced  the  dance  of  death  and 
vengeance  there  is  nothing  can  scare  Indians," 
said  the  Brown  Pelican,  and  the  whole  rookery 
agreed  with  her. 

"At  a  signal,"  she  went  on,  "when  the  Spaniards 
were  lolling  after  dinner  with  their  iron  shirts  half 

198 


THE  PEARLS  OF  COFACHIQUE 

off,  and  the  guns  stacked  on  the  sand,  the  Indians 
fell  upon  them  with  terrible  slaughter.  Ayllon  got 
away  to  his  ships  with  a  few  of  his  men,  but  there 
were  not  boats  enough  for  all  of  them,  and  they 
could  not  swim  in  their  armor.  Some  of  them  tried 
it,  but  the  Indians  swam  after  them,  stabbing  and 
pulling  them  under.  That  night  Ayllon  saw  from 
his  ships  the  great  fires  the  Indians  made  to  cele 
brate  their  victory,  and  the  moment  the  day  popped 
suddenly  out  of  the  sea,  as  it  does  at  that  latitude, 
he  set  sail  and  put  the  ships  about  for  Hispaniola, 
without  stopping  to  look  for  survivors. 

"But  even  there,  I  think,  the  Cacica's  thought 
followed  him.  A  storm  came  up  out  of  the  Gulf, 
black  with  thunder  and  flashing  green  fire.  The 
ships  were  undermanned,  for  the  sailors,  too,  had 
been  ashore  feasting.  One  of  the  brigantines  — 
but  not  the  one  which  carried  Ayllon  —  staggered 
awhile  in  the  huge  seas  and  went  under." 

"And  the  pearls,  the  young  chief's  necklace, 
what  became  of  that?"  asked  Dorcas. 

"It  went  back  to  Talimeco  with  the  old  chief's 
body  and  was  buried  with  him.  You  see,  that  had 
been  the  signal.  Ayllon  had  the  necklace  with  him 
in  the  slack  of  his  doublet.  He  thought  it  would 
be  a  good  time  after  the  feast  to  show  it  to  the 
Cacique  and  inquire  where  pearls  could  be  found. 
He  had  no  idea  that  it  had  belonged  to  the  Ca 
cique's  son;  all  Indians  looked  very  much  alike 

199 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

to  him.  But  when  the  Cacique  saw  Young  Pine's 
necklace  in  the  Spaniard's  hand,  he  raised  the  en 
emy  shout  that  was  the  signal  for  his  men,  who 
lay  in  the  scrub,  to  begin  the  battle.  Ayllon  struck 
down  the  Cacique  with  his  own  sword  as  the  near 
est  at  hand.  But  the  Cacique  had  the  pearls,  and 
after  the  fighting  began  there  was  no  time  for  the 
Spaniard  to  think  of  getting  them  back  again.  So 
the  pearls  went  back  to  Talimeco,  with  axes  and 
Spanish  arms,  to  be  laid  up  in  the  god-house  for  a 
trophy.  It  was  there,  ten  years  later,  that  Her- 
nando  de  Soto  found  them.  As  for  Ayllon,  his  pride 
and  his  heart  were  broken.  He  died  of  that  and 
the  fever  he  had  brought  back  from  Cofachique, 
but  you  may  be  sure  he  never  told  exactly  what 
happened  to  him  on  that  unlucky  voyage.  Nobody 
had  any  ear  in  those  days  for  voyages  that  failed; 
they  were  all  for  gold  and  the  high  adventure." 

"What  I  want  to  know,"  said  Dorcas,  "is  what 
became  of  the  Cacica,  and  whether  she  saw  Mr.  de 
Soto  coming  and  why,  if  she  could  look  people  in  the 
eye  and  make  them  do  what  she  wanted,  she  did 
n't  just  see  Mr.  de  Ayllon  herself  and  tell  him  to 
go  home  again." 

"It  was  only  to  her  own  people  she  could  do 
that,"  said  the  Pelican.  "She  could  send  her 
dream  to  them  too,  if  it  pleased  her,  but  she  never 
dared  to  put  her  powers  to  the  test  with  the  stran 
gers.  If  she  had  tried  and  failed,  then  the  Indians 

200 


THE  PEARLS  OF  COFACHIQUE 

would  have  been  certain  of  the  one  thing  they  were 
never  quite  sure  of,  that  the  Spaniards  were  the 
Children  of  the  Sun.  As  for  the  horses,  they  never 
did  get  it  out  of  their  minds  that  they  might  be 
eaten  by  them.  I  think  the  Cacica  felt  in  her  heart 
that  the  strangers  were  only  men,  but  it  was  too 
important  to  her  to  be  feared  by  her  own  people  to 
take  any  chances  of  showing  herself  afraid  of  the 
Spaniards.  That  was  why  she  never  saw  Ayllon, 
and  when  it  was  at  last  necessary  that  Soto  should 
be  met,  she  left  that  part  of  the  business  to  the 
young  Princess." 

"That,"  said  the  Snowy  Egret, " should  be  my 
story!  The  egrets  were  sacred  at  Cofachique,"  she 
explained  to  the  children;  "only  the  chief  family 
wore  our  plumes.  Our  rookery  was  in  the  middle 
swamp  a  day  inland  from  Talimeco,  safe  and  secret. 
But  we  used  to  go  past  the  town  every  day  fishing 
in  the  river.  That  is  how  we  knew  the  whole  story 
of  what  happened  there  and  at  Tuscaloosa." 

Dorcas  remembered  her  geography.  "Tusca 
loosa  is  in  Alabama,"  she  said;  "that's  a  long  way 
from  Savannah." 

"  Not  too  long  for  the  Far-Looking.  She  and  the 
Black  Warrior  —  that's  what  Tuscaloosa  means  — 
were  of  one  spirit.  In  the  ten  or  twelve  years  after 
the  Cacique,  her  husband,  was  killed,  she  put  the 
fear  of  Cofachique  on  all  the  surrounding  tribes,  as 
far  as  Tuscaloosa  River. 

201 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

"  There  was  an  open  trail  between  the  two  chief 
cities  of  Cofachique  and  Mobila,  which  was  called 
the  Tribute  Road  because  of  the  tribes  that  trav 
eled  it,  bringing  tribute  to  one  or  another  of  the 
two  Great  Ones.  But  not  any  more  after  the  Prin 
cess  who  was  called  the  Pearl  of  Cofachique  walked 
in  it." 

"Oh,  Princesses!"  sighed  Dorcas  Jane,  "if  we 
could  just  see  one!" 

The  Snowy  Egret  considered.  "If  the  Pelicans 
would  dance  for  you  — " 

"Have  the  Pelicans  a  dance?" 

"Of  all  the  dances  that  the  Indians  have,"  said 
the  Egret,  "the  first  and  the  best  they  learned 
from  the  Wing  People.  Some  they  learned  from 
the  Cranes  by  the  water-courses,  and  some  from  the 
bucks  prancing  before  the  does  on  the  high  ridges; 
old,  old  dances  of  the  great  elk  and  the  wapiti.  In 
the  new  of  the  year  everything  dances  in  some 
fashion,  and  by  dancing  everything  is  made  one, 
sky  and  sea,  and  bird  and  dancing  leaf.  Old  time 
is  present,  and  all  old  feelings  are  as  the  times  and 
feelings  that  will  be.  These  are  the  things  men 
learned  in  the  days  of  the  Unforgotten,  dancing  to 
make  the  world  work  well  together  by  times  and 
seasons.  But  the  Pelicans  can  always  dance  a 
little;  anywhere  in  their  rookeries  you  might  see 
them  bowing  and  balancing.  Watch,  now,  in  the 
clear  foreshore." 

202 


THE  PEARLS  OF  COFACHIQUE 

True  enough,  on  the  bare,  ripple-packed  sand 
that  glimmered  like  the  inside  of  a  shell,  several  of 
the  great  birds  were  making  absurd  dips  and  cour 
tesies  toward  one  another ;  they  spread  their  wings 
like  flowing  draperies  and  began  to  sway  with  move 
ments  of  strange  dignity.  The  high  sun  filmed  with 
silver  fog,  and  along  the  heated  air  there  crept  an 
eerie  feel  of  noon. 

"When  half  a  dozen  of  them  begin  to  circle  to 
gether,"  said  the  Snowy  Egret,  "turn  round  and 
look  toward  the  wood." 

At  the  right  moment  the  children  turned,  and 
between  the  gray  and  somber  shadows  of  the  cy 
press  they  saw  her  come.  All  in  white  she  was  — 
white  cloth  of  the  middle  bark  of  mulberries,  soft 
as  linen,  with  a  cloak  of  oriole  feathers  black  and 
yellow,  edged  with  sables.  On  her  head  was  the 
royal  circlet  of  egret  plumes  nodding  above  the 
yellow  circlet  of  the  Sun.  When  she  walked,  it 
made  them  think  of  the  young  wind  stirring  in  the 
corn.  Around  her  neck  she  wore,  in  the  fashion  of 
Cofachique,  three  strands  of  pearls  reaching  to  the 
waist,  in  which  she  rested  her  left  arm. 

"That  was  how  the  Spaniards  saw  her  for  the 
first  time,  and  found  her  so  lovely  that  they  forgot 
to  ask  her  name;  they  called  her  'The  Lady  of 
Cofachique,'  and  swore  there  was  not  a  lovelier 
lady  in  Europe  nor  one  more  a  princess. 

"Which  might  easily  be  true,"  said  the  Egret, 

203 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

"for  she  was  brought  up  to  be  Cacica  in  Far- 
Looking's  place,  after  the  death  of  her  son  Young 
Pine." 

The  Princess  smiled  on  the  children  as  she  came 
down  the  cypress  trail.  One  of  her  women,  who 
moved  unobtrusively  beside  her,  arranged  cushions 
of  woven  cane,  and  another  held  a  fan  of  painted 
skin  and  feather  work  between  her  and  the  sun. 
A  tame  egret  ruffled  her  white  plumes  at  the  Prin 
cess's  shoulder. 

"I  was  telling  them  about  the  pearls  of  Cofa- 
chique,"  said  the  Egret  who  had  first  spoken  to  the 
children,  "and  of  how  Hernando  de  Soto  came  to 
look  for  them." 

"Came  and  looked,"  said  the  Princess.  One  of 
her  women  brought  a  casket  carved  from  a  solid 
lump  of  cypress,  on  her  knee.  Around  the  sides  of 
the  casket  and  on  the  two  ends  ran  a  decoration  of 
woodpeckers'  heads  and  the  mingled  sign  of  the 
sun  and  the  four  quarters  which  the  Corn  Woman 
had  drawn  for  Dorcas  on  the  dust  of  the  dancing- 
floor. 

The  Princess  lifted  the  lid  and  ran  her  fine  dark 
fingers  through  a  heap  of  gleaming  pearls.  "There 
were  many  mule  loads  such  as  these  in  the  god- 
house  at  Talimeco,"  she  said;  "we  filled  the  caskets 
of  our  dead  Caciques  with  them.  What  is  gold  that 
he  should  have  left  all  these  for  the  mere  rumor 
of  it?" 

204 


THE  PEARLS  OF  COFACHIQUE 

She  was  sad  for  a  moment  and  then  stern.  "  Nev 
ertheless,  I  think  my  aunt,  the  Cacica,  should  have 
met  him.  She  would  have  seen  that  he  was  a  man 
and  would  have  used  men's  reasons  with  him.  She 
made  Medicine  against  him  as  though  he  were  a 
god,  and  in  the  end  his  medicine  was  stronger  than 


ours." 


"  If  you  could  tell  us  about  it  — "  invited  Dorcas 
Jane. 


XII 

HOW  THE  IRON  SHIRTS  CAME  TO  TUSCALOOSA: 

A  TELLING  OF  THE  TRIBUTE  ROAD  BY 

THE  LADY  OF  COFACHIQUE 

"THERE  was  a  bloom  on  the  sea  like  the  bloom  on 
a  wild  grape  when  the  Adelantado  left  his  winter 
quarters  at  Anaica  Apalache,"  said  the  Princess. 
"He  sent  Maldonado,  his  captain,  to  cruise  along 
the  Gulf  coast  with  the  ships,  and  struck  north  to 
ward  Cofachique.  That  was  in  March,  i54o,  and 
already  his  men  and  horses  were  fewer  because  of 
sickness  and  skirmishes  with  the  Indians.  They 
had  for  guide  Juan  Ortiz,  one  of  Narvaez's  men 
who  had  been  held  captive  by  the  Indians  these 
eight  years,  and  a  lad  Perico  who  remembered  a 
trading  trip  to  Cofachique.  And  what  he  could  not 
remember  he  invented.  He  made  Soto  believe  there 
was  gold  there.  Perhaps  he  was  thinking  of  copper, 

206 


HOW  THE  IRON  SHIRTS  CAME 

and  perhaps,  since  the  Spaniards  had  made  him 
their  servant,  he  found  it  pleasanter  to  be  in  an 
important  position. 

"They  set  out  by  the  old  sea  trail  toward  Alta- 
paha,  when  the  buds  at  the  ends  of  the  magnolia 
boughs  were  turning  creamy,  and  the  sandhill  crane 
could  be  heard  whooping  from  the  lagoons  miles 
inland.  First  went  the  captains  with  the  Indian 
guides  in  chains,  for  they  had  a  way  of  disappearing 
in  the  scrub  if  not  watched  carefully,  and  then  the 
foot  soldiers,  each  with  his  sixty  days'  ration  on  his 
back.  Last  of  all  came  a  great  drove  of  pigs  and 
dogs  of  Spain,  fierce  mastiffs  who  made  nothing  of 
tearing  an  Indian  in  pieces,  and  had  to  be  kept  in 
leash  by  Pedro  Moron,  who  was  as  keen  as  a  dog 
himself.  He  could  smell  Indians  in  hiding  and 
wood  smoke  three  leagues  away.  Many  a  time 
when  the  expedition  was  all  but  lost,  he  would 
smell  his  way  to  a  village. 

"  They  went  north  by  east  looking  for  gold,  and 
equal  to  any  adventure.  At  Achese  the  Indians, 
who  had  never  heard  of  white  men,  were  so  fright 
ened  that  they  ran  away  into  the  woods  and  would 
not  come  out  again.  Think  what  it  meant  to  them 
to  see  strange  bearded  men,  clad  in  iron  shirts, 
astride  of  fierce,  unknown  animals,  —  for  the  In 
dians  could  not  help  but  think  that  the  horses 
would  eat  them.  They  had  never  heard  of  iron 
either.  Nevertheless,  the  Spaniards  got  some  corn 

207 


,THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

there,  from  the  high  cribs  of  cane  set  up  on  plat 
forms  beside  the  huts. 

"  Everywhere  Soto  told  the  Caciques  that  he  and 
his  men  were  the  Children  of  the  Sun,  seeking  the 
highest  chief  and  the  richest  province,  and  asked 
for  guides  and  carriers,  which  usually  he  got.  You 
may  be  sure  the  Indians  were  glad  to  be  rid  of 
them  so  cheaply. 

"The  expedition  moved  toward  Ocute,  with  the 
bloom  of  the  wild  vines  perfuming  all  the  air,  and 
clouds  of  white  butterflies  beginning  to  twinkle 
in  the  savannahs." 

"But,"  said  Dorcas,  who  had  listened  very  at 
tentively,  "I  thought  Savannah  was  a  place." 

"Ever  so  many  places,"  said  the  Princess;  "flat 
miles  on  miles  of  slim  pines  melting  into  grayness, 
sunlight  sifting  through  their  plumy  tops,  with 
gray  birds  wheeling  in  flocks,  or  troops  of  red 
headed  woodpeckers,  and  underfoot  nothing  but 
needles  and  gray  sand.  Far  ahead  on  every  side 
the  pines  draw  together,  but  where  one  walks  they 
are  wide  apart,  so  that  one  seems  always  about  to 
approach  a  forest  and  never  finds  it.  These  are 
the  savannahs. 

"Between  them  along  the  water-courses  are 
swamps;  slow,  black  water  and  wide-rooted,  gull- 
gray  cypress,  flat-topped  and  all  adrip  with  moss. 
And  everywhere  a  feeling  of  snakes  —  wicked 
water-snakes  with  yellow  rims  around  their  eyes. 

208 


HOW  THE  IRON  SHIRTS  CAME 

"They  crossed  great  rivers,  Ockmulgee,  Oconee, 
Ogechee,  making  a  bridge  of  men  and  paddling 
their  way  across  with  the  help  of  saddle  cruppers 
and  horses'  tails.  If  the  waters  were  too  deep  for 
that,  they  made  piraguas  —  dug-out  canoes,  you 
know  —  and  rafts  of  cane.  By  the  time  they  had 
reached  Ocute  the  Spaniards  were  so  hungry  they 
were  glad  to  eat  dogs  which  the  Indians  gave  them, 
for  there  was  such  a  scarcity  of  meat  on  all  that 
journey  that  the  sick  men  would  sometimes  say, 
'  If  only  I  had  a  piece  of  meat  I  think  I  would  not 
die!" 

"But  where  was  all  the  game?"  Oliver  insisted 
on  knowing. 

"Six  hundred  men  with  three  hundred  horses 
and  a  lot  of  Indian  carriers,  coming  through  the 
woods,  make  a  great  deal  of  noise,"  said  the  Prin 
cess.  "The  Spaniards  never  dared  to  hunt  far 
from  the  trail  for  fear  of  getting  lost.  There  were 
always  lurking  Indians  ready  to  drive  an  arrow 
through  a  piece  of  Milan  armor  as  if  it  were  paste 
board,  and  into  the  body  of  a  horse  over  the  feather 
of  the  shaft,  so  that  the  Spaniards  wondered,  see 
ing  the  little  hole  it  made,  how  the  horse  had  died. 

"  Day  after  day  the  expedition  would  wind  in  and 
out  of  the  trail,  bunching  up  like  quail  in  the  open 
places,  and  dropping  back  in  single  file  in  the  cane- 
brake,  with  the  tail  of  the  company  so  far  from  the 
head  that  when  there  was  a  skirmish  with  the  In- 

209 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

dians  at  either  end,  it  would  often  be  over  before 
the  other  end  could  catch  up.  In  this  fashion  they 
came  to  Cofaque,  which  is  the  last  province  before 
Cofachique." 

"Oh,"  said  Dorcas,  "and  did  the  Chief  Woman 
see  them  coming?  The  one  who  was  Far-Look- 
ing!" 

"She  saw  too  much,"  said  the  Egret,  tucking 
her  eggs  more  warmly  under  her  breast.  "  She  saw 
other  comings  and  all  the  evil  that  the  White  Men 
would  bring  and  do." 

"Whatever  she  saw  she  did  her  best  to  prevent," 
said  the  Princess.  "  Three  things  she  tried.  Two 
of  them  failed.  There  are  two  trails  into  the  heart 
of  Cofachique,  one  from  the  west  from  Tuscaloosa, 
and  the  other  from  Cofaque,  a  very  secret  trail 
through  swamp  and  palmetto  scrub,  full  of  false 
clues  and  blind  leads. 

"Far-Looking  sat  in  the  god-house  at  Talimeco, 
and  sent  her  thought  along  the  trail  to  turn  the 
strangers  back;  but  what  is  the  thought  of  one 
woman  against  six  hundred  men!  It  reached  no 
body  but  the  lad  Perico,  and  shook  him  with  a 
midnight  terror,  so  that  he  screamed  and  threw 
himself  about.  The  Spaniards  came  running  with 
book  and  bell,  for  the  priest  thought  the  boy  was 
plagued  by  a  devil.  But  the  soldiers  thought  it  was 
all  a  pretense  to  save  himself  from  being  punished 
for  not  knowing  the  trail  to  Cofachique. 

210 


HOW  THE  IRON  SHIRTS  CAME 

"Nobody  really  knew  it,  because  the  Cofachi- 
quans,  who  were  at  war  with  Cofaque,  had  hidden 
it  as  a  fox  covers  the  trail  to  her  lair.  But  after 
beating  about  among  the  sloughs  and  swamps  like 
a  rabbit  in  a  net,  and  being  reduced  to  a  ration  of 
eighteen  grains  of  corn,  the  Spaniards  came  to  the 
river  about  a  day's  journey  above  the  place  where 
Lucas  de  Ayllon's  men  had  died.  They  caught  a 
few  stray  Indians,  who  allowed  themselves  to  be 
burnt  rather  than  show  the  way  to  their  towns,  — 
for  so  the  Cacica  had  ordered  them,  —  and  at  last 
the  expedition  came  to  a  village  where  there  was 


corn." 


4 'But  I  should  n't  think  the  Indians  would  give 
it  to  them,"  said  Dorcas. 

"  Indians  never  refuse  food,  if  they  have  it,  even 
to  their  enemies,"  said  the  Princess. 

The  children  could  see  that  this  part  of  the  story 
was  not  pleasant  remembering  for  the  Lady  of  Co- 
fachique.  She  pushed  the  pearls  away  as  though 
they  wearied  her,  and  her  women  came  crowding 
at  her  shoulder  with  soft,  commiserating  noises  like 
doves.  They  were  beautiful  and  young  like  her, 
and  wore  the  white  dress  of  Cofachique,  a  skirt  of 
mulberry  fiber  and  an  upper  garment  that  went 
over  the  left  shoulder  and  left  the  right  arm  bare 
except  for  the  looped  bracelets  of  shell  and  pearl. 
Their  long  hair  lay  sleek  across  their  bosoms  and, 
to  show  that  they  were  privileged  to  wait  upon  the 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

Chief  Woman,  they  had  each  a  single  egret's  plume 
in  the  painted  bandeau  about  her  forehead. 

" Far-Looking  was  both  aunt  and  chief  to  me," 
said  the  Princess;  "it  was  not  for  me  to  question 
what  she  did.  Our  country  had  been  long  at  war 
with  Cofaque,  at  cost  of  men  and  corn.  And  Soto, 
as  he  came  through  that  country,  picked  up  their 
War  Leader  Patofa,  and  the  best  of  their  fighting 
men,  for  they  had  persuaded  him  that  only  by 
force  would  he  get  anything  from  the  Cacica  of 
Cofachique.  The  truth  was  that  it  was  only  by 
trusting  to  the  magic  of  the  white  men  that  Patofa 
could  get  to  us.  The  Adelantado  allowed  him  to 
pillage  such  towns  as  they  found  before  he  thought 
better  of  it  and  sent  Patofa  and  his  men  back  to 
Cofaque,  but  by  that  time  the  thing  had  happened 
which  made  the  Cacica's  second  plan  impossible. 
Our  fighting  men  had  seen  what  the  Spaniards 
could  do,  and  I  had  seen  what  they  could  be." 

Proudly  as  she  said  it,  the  children  could  see, 
by  the  way  the  Princess  frowned  to  herself  and 
drummed  with  her  fingers  on  the  cypress  wood, 
that  the  old  puzzle  of  the  strangers  who  were 
neither  gods  nor  men  worked  still  in  her  mind. 

"The  Cacica's  first  plan,"  she  went  on,  "which 
had  been  to  lose  them  in  the  swamps  and  savan 
nahs,  had  failed.  Her  second  was  to  receive  them 
kindly  and  then  serve  them  as  she  had  served 
Ayllon. 


HOW  THE  IRON  SHIRTS  CAME 

"They  made  their  camp  at  last  across  the  river 
from  Talimeco,  and  I  with  my  women  went  out  to 
meet  them  as  a  great  Cacique  should  be  met,  in  a 
canoe  with  an  awning,  with  fan-bearers  and  flutes 
and  drums.  I  saw  that  I  pleased  him,"  said  the  Prin 
cess.  "  I  gave  him  the  pearls  from  my  neck,  and  had 
from  him  a  ring  from  his  finger  set  with  a  red  stone. 
He  was  a  handsome  and  a  gallant  gentleman,  know 
ing  what  was  proper  toward  Princesses." 

"And  all  this  time  you  were  planning  to  kill 
him?"  said  Dorcas,  shocked. 

The  Princess  shook  her  head. 

"Not  I,  but  the  Cacica.  She  told  me  nothing. 
Talimeco  was  a  White  Town;  how  should  I  know 
that  she  planned  killing  in  it.  She  sat  in  the  Place 
of  the  Silences  working  her  mischief  and  trusted  me 
to  keep  the  Spaniards  charmed  and  unsuspicious. 
How  should  I  know  what  she  meant?  I  am  chief 
woman  of  Cofachique,  but  I  am  not  far-looking. 

"I  showed  the  Adelantado  the  god-house  with 
its  dead  Caciques  all  stuffed  with  pearls,  and  the 
warrior-house  where  the  arms  of  Ayllon  were  laid 
up  for  a  trophy.  It  would  have  been  well  for  him 
to  be  contented  with  these  things.  I  have  heard 
him  say  they  would  have  been  a  fortune  in  his  own 
country,  but  he  was  bitten  with  the  love  of  gold 
and  mad  with  it  as  if  a  water  moccasin  had  set  its 
fangs  in  him.  I  had  no  gold,  and  I  could  not  help 
him  to  get  Far-Looking  into  his  power. 

213 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

"  That  was  his  plan  always,  to  make  the  chief  per 
son  of  every  city  his  hostage  for  the  safety  of  his 
men.  I  would  have  helped  him  if  I  could,"  the 
Princess  admitted,  "for  I  thought  him  glorious,  but 
the  truth  was,  I  did  not  know. 

"There  was  a  lad,  Islay,  brought  up  with  me  in 
the  house  of  my  aunt,  the  Cacica,  who  went  back 
and  forth  to  her  with  messages  to  the  Place  of  the 
Silences,  and  him  I  drove  by  my  anger  to  lead  the 
Spaniards  that  way.  But  as  he  went  he  feared  her 
anger  coming  to  meet  him  more  than  he  feared 
mine  that  waited  him  at  home.  One  day  while  the 
Spanish  soldiers  who  were  with  him  admired  the 
arrows  which  he  showed  them  in  his  quiver,  so 
beautifully  made,  he  plunged  the  sharpest  of  them 
into  his  throat.  He  was  a  poor  thing,"  said  the 
Princess  proudly,  "since  he  loved  neither  me  nor 
my  aunt  enough  to  serve  one  of  us  against  the 
other.  We  succeeded  only  in  serving  Soto,  for  now 
there  was  no  one  to  carry  word  for  the  Cacica  to 
the  men  who  were  to  fall  upon  the  Spaniards  and 
destroy  them  as  they  had  destroyed  Ay  lion. 

"Perhaps,"  said  the  Princess,  "if  she  had  told  me 
her  plan  and  her  reason  for  it,  things  would  have 
turned  out  differently.  At  any  rate,  she  need  not 
have  become,  as  she  did  finally,  my  worst  enemy, 
and  died  fighting  me.  At  that  time  she  was  as 
mother  and  chief  to  me,  and  I  could  never  have 
wished  her  so  much  bitterness  as  she  must  have 

214 


HOW  THE  IRON  SHIRTS  CAME 

felt  sitting  unvisited  in  the  Place  of  the  Silences, 
while  I  took  the  Adelantado  pearling,  and  the 
fighting  men,  who  should  have  fallen  upon  him  at 
her  word,  danced  for  his  entertainment. 

"She  had  to  come  out  at  last  to  find  what  had 
happened  to  Islay,  for  whose  death  she  blamed  me, 
and  back  she  went  without  a  word  to  me,  like  a  hot 
spider  to  spin  a  stronger  web.  This  time  she  ap 
pealed  to  Tuscaloosa.  They  were  of  one  mind  in 
many  things,  and  between  them  they  kept  all  the 
small  tribes  in  tribute. 

"It  was  about  the  time  of  the  year  when  they 
should  be  coming  with  it  along  the  Tribute  Road, 
and  the  Cacica  sent  them  word  that  if  they  could 
make  the  Spaniards  believe  that  there  was  gold  in 
their  hills,  she  would  remit  the  tribute  for  one  year. 
There  was  not  much  for  them  to  do,  for  there  were 
hatchets  and  knives  in  the  tribute,  made  of  copper, 
in  which  Soto  thought  he  discovered  gold.  It  may 
be  so:  once  he  had  suspected  it,  I  could  not  keep 
him  any  longer  at  Talimeco.  The  day  that  he  set 
out  there  went  another  expedition  secretly  from  the 
Cacica  to  Tuscaloosa.  'These  men,'  said  the  mes 
sage,  'must  be  fought  by  men.'  And  Tuscaloosa 
smiled  as  he  heard  it,  for  it  was  the  first  time  that 
the  Cacica  had  admitted  there  was  anything  that 
could  not  be  done  by  a  woman.  But  at  that  she 
had  done  her  cleverest  thing,  because,  though  they 
were  friends,  the  Black  Warrior  wanted  nothing  so 

215 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

much  as  an  opportunity  to  prove  that  he  was  the 
better  warrior. 

"It  was  lovely  summer  weather,"  said  the  Prin 
cess,  "as  the  Spaniards  passed  through  the  length 
of  Cofachique;  the  mulberry  trees  were  dripping 
with  ripe  fruit,  the  young  corn  was  growing  tall, 
and  the  Indians  were  friendly.  They  passed  over 
the  Blue  Ridge  where  it  breaks  south  into  woody 
hills.  Glossy  leaves  of  the  live-oak  made  the  forest 
spaces  vague  with  shadows;  bright  birds  like  flame 
hopped  in  and  out  and  hid  in  the  hanging  moss, 
whistling  clearly;  groves  of  pecans  and  walnuts 
along  the  river  hung  ropy  with  long  streamers  of 
the  purple  muscadines. 

"You  have  heard,"  said  the  Lady  of  Cofachique, 
hesitating  for  the  first  time  in  her  story,  and  yet 
looking  so  much  the  Princess  that  the  children 
would  never  have  dared  think  anything  displeasing 
to  her,  "that  I  went  a  part  of  the  way  with  the 
Adelantado  on  the  Tribute  Road?"  Her  lovely 
face  cleared  a  little  as  they  shook  their  heads. 

"It  is  not  true,"  she  said,  "that  I  went  for  any 
reason  but  my  own  wish  to  learn  as  much  as  pos 
sible  of  the  wisdom  of  the  white  men  and  to  keep 
my  own  people  safe  in  the  towns  they  passed 
through.  I  had  my  own  women  about  me,  and  my 
own  warriors  ran  in  the  woods  on  either  side,  and 
showed  themselves  to  me  in  the  places  where  the 
expedition  halted,  unsuspected  by  Soto.  It  was  as 

216 


HOW  THE  IRON  SHIRTS  CAME 

much  as  any  Spaniard  could  do  to  tell  one  half- 
naked  Indian  from  another. 

"The  pearls,  too,"  —  she  touched  the  casket 
with  her  foot,  —  "the  finest  that  Soto  had  se 
lected  from  the  god-house,  I  kept  by  me.  I  never 
meant  to  let  them  go,  though  there  were  some 
of  them  I  gave  to  a  soldier  .  .  .  there  were  slaves, 
too,  of  Soto's  who  found  the  free  life  of  Cofachique 
more  to  their  liking  than  the  fruitless  search  for 
gold.  .  .  ." 

"She  means,"  said  the  Snowy  Egret,  seeing  that 
the  Princess  did  not  intend  to  say  any  more  on  that 
point,  "that  she  gave  them  for  bribes  to  one  of 
Soto's  men,  a  great  bag  full,  though  there  came  a 
day  when  he  needed  the  bag  more  than  the  pearls 
and  he  left  them  scattered  on  the  floor  of  the  forest. 
It  was  about  the  slaves  who  went  with  her  when  she 
gave  Soto  the  slip  in  the  deep  woods,  that  she 
quarreled  afterward  with  the  old  Cacica." 

"At  the  western  border  of  Cofachique,  which  is 
the  beginning  of  Tuscaloosa's  land,"  went  on  the 
Princess,  "I  came  away  with  my  women  and  my 
pearls;  we  walked  in  the  thick  woods  and  we  were 
gone.  Where  can  a  white  man  look  that  an  Indian 
cannot  hide  from  him?  It  is  true  that  I  knew  by 
this  time  that  the  Cacica  had  sent  to  Tuscaloosa, 
but  what  was  that  to  me?  The  Adelantado  had 
left  of  his  own  free  will,  and  I  was  not  then  Chief 
Woman  of  Cofachique.  At  the  first  of  the  Tusca- 

217 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

loosa  towns  the  Black  Warrior  awaited  them.  He 
sat  on  the  piazza  of  his  house  on  the  principal 
mound.  He  sat  as  still  as  the  Cacica  in  the  Place  of 
Silences,  a  great  turban  stiff  with  pearls  upon  his 
head,  and  over  him  the  standard  of  Tuscaloosa 
like  a  great  round  fan  on  a  slender  stem,  of  fine 
feather-work  laid  on  deerskin.  While  the  Span 
iards  wheeled  and  raced  their  horses  in  front  of  him, 
trying  to  make  an  impression,  Soto  could  not  get 
so  much  as  the  flick  of  an  eyelash  out  of  the  Black 
Warrior.  Gentleman  of  Spain  as  he  was  and  the 
King's  own  representative,  he  had  to  dismount  at 
last  and  conduct  himself  humbly. 

"The  Adelantado  asked  for  obedience  to  his 
King,  which  Tuscaloosa  said  he  was  more  used  to 
getting  than  giving.  When  Soto  wished  for  food 
and  carriers,  Tuscaloosa  gave  him  part,  and,  dis 
sembling,  said  the  rest  were  at  his  capital  of  Mo- 
bila.  Against  the  advice  of  his  men  Soto  consented 
to  go  there  with  him. 

"  It  was  a  strong  city  set  with  a  stockade  of  tree- 
trunks  driven  into  the  ground,  where  they  rooted 
and  sent  up  great  trees  in  which  wild  pigeons 
roosted.  It  was  they  that  had  seen  the  runners 
of  Cofachique  come  in  with  the  message  from 
Far-Looking.  All  the  wood  knew,  and  the  Indians 
knew,  but  not  the  Spaniards.  Some  of  them  sus 
pected.  They  saw  that  the  brush  had  been  cut  from 
the  ground  outside  the  stockade,  as  if  for  battle. 

218 


HOW  THE  IRON  SHIRTS  CAME 

"  One  of  them  took  a  turn  through  the  town  and 
met  not  an  old  man  nor  any  children.  There  were 
dancing  women,  but  no  others.  This  is  the  cus 
tom  of  the  Indians  when  they  are  about  to  fight, 
—  they  hide  their  families. 

"Soto  was  weary  of  the  ground,"  said  the  Prin 
cess.  "This  we  were  told  by  the  carriers  who  es 
caped  and  came  back  to  Cofachique.  He  wished  to 
sit  on  a  cushion  and  sleep  in  a  bed  again.  He  came 
riding  into  the  town  with  the  Cacique  on  a  horse 
as  a  token  of  honor,  though  Tuscaloosa  was  so  tall 
that  they  had  trouble  finding  a  horse  that  could 
keep  his  feet  from  the  ground,  and  it  must  have 
been  as  pleasant  for  him  as  riding  a  lion  or  a  tiger. 
But  he  was  a  great  chief,  and  if  the  Spaniards  were 
not  afraid  to  ride  neither  would  he  seem  to  be. 
So  they  came  to  the  principal  house,  which  was 
on  a  mound.  All  the  houses  were  of  two  stories, 
of  which  the  upper  was  open  on  the  sides,  and 
used  for  sleeping.  Soto  sat  with  Tuscaloosa  in  the 
piazza  and  feasted ;  dancing  girls  came  out  in  the 
town  square  with  flute-players,  and  danced  for  the 
guard. 

"But  one  of  Soto's  men,  more  wary  than  the 
rest,  walked  about,  and  saw  that  the  towers  of 
the  wall  were  full  of  fighting  men.  He  saw  Indians 
hiding  arrows  behind  palm  branches. 

"Back  he  went  to  the  house  where  Soto  was, 
to  warn  him,  but  already  the  trouble  had  begun. 

219 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

Tuscaloosa,  making  an  excuse,  had  withdrawn 
into  the  house,  and  when  Soto  wished  to  speak  to 
him  sent  back  a  haughty  answer.  Soto  would  have 
soothed  him,  but  one  of  Soto's  men,  made  angry 
with  the  insolence  of  the  Indian  who  had  brought 
the  Cacique's  answer,  seized  the  man  by  his  cloak, 
and  when  the  Indian  stepped  quickly  out  of  it, 
answered  as  quickly  with  his  sword.  Suddenly,  out 
of  the  dark  houses,  came  a  shower  of  arrows." 

"It  was  the  plan  of  the  Cacica  of  Cofachique," 
explained  the  Egret.  "The  men  of  Mobila  had 
meant  to  fall  on  the  Spaniards  while  they  were 
eating,  but  because  of  the  Spanish  gentleman's  bad 
temper,  the  battle  began  too  soon." 

"  It  was  the  only  plan  of  hers  that  did  not  utterly 
fail,"  said  the  Princess,  "for  with  all  her  far-looking 
she  could  not  see  into  the  Adelantado's  heart.  Soto 
and  his  guard  ran  out  of  the  town,  every  one  with 
an  arrow  sticking  in  him,  to  join  themselves  to  the 
rest  of  the  expedition  which  had  just  come  up. 
Like  wasps  out  of  a  nest  the  Indians  poured  after 
them.  They  caught  the  Indian  carriers,  who  were 
just  easing  their  loads  under  the  walls.  With  every 
pack  and  basket  that  the  Spaniards  had,  they  car 
ried  them  back  into  the  town,  and  the  gates  of  the 
stockade  were  swung  to  after  them." 

"All  night,"  said  the  Egret,  "the  birds  were 
scared  from  their  roost  by  the  noise  of  the  battle. 
Several  of  the  horses  were  caught  inside  the  stock- 

220 


HOW  THE  IRON  SHIRTS  CAME 

ade;  these  the  Indians  killed  quickly.  The  sound 
of  their  dying  neighs  was  heard  at  all  the  rookeries 
along  the  river." 

"The  wild  tribes  heard  of  it,  and  brought  us 
word,"  said  the  Princess.  "Soto  attacked  and  pre 
tended  to  withdraw.  Out  came  the  Indians  after 
him.  The  Spaniards  wheeled  again  and  did  terrible 
slaughter.  They  came  at  the  stockade  with  axes; 
they  fired  the  towers.  The  houses  were  all  of  dry 
cane  and  fine  mats  of  cane  for  walls ;  they  flashed  up 
in  smoke  and  flame.  Many  of  the  Indians  threw 
themselves  into  the  flames  rather  than  be  taken. 
At  the  last  there  were  left  three  men  and  t|he 
dancing  women.  The  women  came  into  the  open 
by  the  light  of  the  burning  town,  with  their  hands 
crossed  before  them.  They  stood  close  and  hid  the 
men  with  their  skirts,  until  the  Spaniards  came 
up,  and  then  parted.  So  the  last  men  of  Mobila 
took  their  last  shots  and  died  fighting." 

"Is  that  the  end?"  said  Oliver,  seeing  the  Prin 
cess  gather  up  her  pearls  and  the  Egret  preparing 
to  tuck  her  bill  under  her  wing.  He  did  not  feel 
very  cheerful  over  it. 

"It  was  the  end  of  Mobila  and  the  true  end 
of  the  expedition,"  said  the  Princess.  Rising  she 
beckoned  to  her  women.  She  had  lost  all  inter 
est  in  a  story  which  had  no  more  to  do  with  Co- 
fachique. 

"Both  sides  lost,"  said  the  Egret,  "and  that  was 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

the  sad  part  of  it.  All  the  Indians  were  killed ;  even 
the  young  son  of  Tuscaloosa  was  found  with  a 
spear  sticking  in  him.  Of  the  Spaniards  but  eight 
een  died,  though  few  escaped  unwounded.  But 
they  lost  everything  they  had,  food,  medicines, 
tools,  everything  but  the  sword  in  hand  and  the 
clothes  they  stood  in.  And  while  they  lay  on  the 
bare  ground  recovering  from  their  wounds  came  Juan 
Ortiz,  who  had  been  sent  seaward  for  that  purpose, 
with  word  that  Maldonado  lay  with  the  ships  off 
the  bay  of  Mobila, — that's  Mobile,  you  know, — 
not  six  days  distant,  to  carry  them  back  to  Havana. 

"And  how  could  Soto  go  back  defeated?  No 
gold,  no  pearls,  no  conquests,  not  so  much  as  a 
map,  even,  —  only  rags  and  wounds  and  a  sore 
heart.  In  spite  of  everything  he  was  both  brave 
and  gallant,  and  he  knew  his  duty  to  the  King  of 
Spain.  He  could  not  go  back  with  so  poor  a  report 
of  the  country  to  which  he  had  been  sent  to  estab 
lish  the  fame  and  might  of  His  Majesty.  Forbid 
ding  Juan  Ortiz  to  tell  the  men  about  the  ships, 
with  only  two  days'  food  and  no  baggage,  he  turned 
away  from  the  coast,  from  his  home  and  his  wife 
and  safe  living,  toward  the  Mississippi.  He  had 
no  hope  in  his  heart,  I  think,  but  plenty  of  courage. 
And  if  you  like,"  said  the  Egret,  "another  day  we 
will  tell  you  how  he  died  there." 

"Oh,  no,  please,"  said  Dorcas,  "it  is  so  very 
sad;  and,  besides,"  she  added,  remembering  the 


HOW  THE  IRON  SHIRTS  CAME 

picture  of  Soto's  body  being  lowered  at  night  into 
the  dark  water,  "it  is  in  the  School  History." 

"In  any  case,"  said  the  Egret,  "he  was  a  brave 
and  gallant  gentleman,  kind  to  his  men  and  no 
more  cruel  to  the  Indians  than  they  were  to  one 
another.  There  was  only  one  of  the  gentlemen  of 
Spain  who  never  had  any  unkindness  to  his  dis 
credit.  That  was  Cabeza  de  Vaca;  he  was  one  of 
Narvaez's  men,  and  the  one  from  whom  Soto  first 
heard  of  Florida,  —  but  that  is  also  a  sad  story." 

Neither  of  the  children  said  anything.  The  Prin 
cess  and  her  women  lost  themselves  in  the  shadowy 
wood.  The  gleam  here  and  there  of  their  white 
dresses  was  like  the  wing  of  tall  white  birds.  The 
sun  sailing  toward  noon  had  burnt  the  color  out  of 
the  sky  into  the  deep  water  which  could  be  seen 
cradling  fresh  and  blue  beyond  the  islets.  One  by 
one  the  pelicans  swungjseaward,  beating  their  broad 
wings  all  in  time  like  the  stroke  of  rowers,  going 
to  fish  in  the  clean  tides  outside  of  the  lagoons. 

The  nests  of  the  flamingoes  lay  open  to  the  sun 
except  where  here  and  there  dozed  a  brooding 
mother. 

"Don't  you  know  any  not-sad  stories?"  asked 
Dorcas,  as  the  Egret  showed  signs  again  of  tucking 
her  head  under  her  wing. 

"Not  about  the  Iron  Shirts,"  said  the  Egret. 
"Spanish  or  Portuguese  or  English;  it  was  always 
an  unhappy  ending  for  the  Indians." 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

"Oh,"  said  Dorcas,  disappointed;  and  then  she 
reflected,  "If  they  had  n't  come,  though,  I  don't 
suppose  we  would  be  here  either." 

"I'll  tell  you,"  said  the  Man-of-War  Bird,  who 
was  a  great  traveler,  "they  did  n't  all  land  on  this 
coast.  Some  of  them  landed  in  Mexico  and  marched 
north  into  your  country.  I've  heard  things  from 
gulls  at  Panuco.  You  don't  know  what  the  land 
birds  might  be  able  to  tell  you." 


XIII 

HOW  THE  IRON  SHIRTS  CAME  LOOKING  FOR  THE 

SEVEN  CITIES  OF  CIBOLA;  TOLD  BY  THE 

ROAD-RUNNER 

FROM  Cay  Verde  in  the  Bahamas  to  the  desert  of 
New  Mexico,  by  the  Museum  trail,  is  around  a 
corner  and  past  two  windows  that  look  out  upon 
the  west.  As  the  children  stood  waiting  for  the 
Road-Runner  to  notice  them,  they  found  the  view 
not  very  different  from  the  one  they  had  just 
left.  Unending,  level  sands  ran  into  waves,  and 
strange  shapes  of  rocks  loomed  through  the  desert 
blueness  like  steep-shored  islands.  It  was  vast  and 
terrifying  like  the  sea,  and  yet  a  very  pleasant 
furred  and  feathered  life  appeared  to  be  going  on 
there  between  the  round-headed  cactus,  with  its 
cruel  fishhook  thorns,  and  the  warning,  blood-red 

225 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

blossoms  that  dripped  from  the  ocatilla.  Little 
frisk-tailed  things  ran  up  and  down  the  spiney 
shrubs,  and  a  woodpecker,  who  had  made  his  nest 
in  its  pithy  stalk,  peered  at  them  from  a  tall  sahuaro. 

The  Road-Runner  tilted  his  long  rudder-like 
tail,  flattened  his  crested  head  until  it  reminded 
them  of  a  wicked  snake,  and  suddenly  made  up  his 
mind  to  be  friendly. 

"Come  inside  and  get  your  head  in  the  shade," 
he  invited.  "There's  no  harm  in  the  desert  sun 
so  long  as  you  keep  something  between  it  and  your 
head.  I've  known  Indians  to  get  along  for  days 
with  only  the  shade  of  their  arrows." 

The  children  snuggled  under  the  feathery  shadow 
of  the  mesquite  beside  him. 

"We're  looking  for  the  trail  of  the  Iron  Shirts," 
said  Oliver.  "Alvar  Nunez  Cabeza  de  Vaca," 
added  Dorcas  Jane,  who  always  remembered 
names.  The  Road-Runner  ducked  once  or  twice 
by  way  of  refreshing  his  memory. 

"  There  was  a  black  man  with  him,  and  they  went 
about  as  Medicine  Men  to  the  Indians  who  be 
lieved  in  them,  and  at  the  same  time  treated  them 
very  badly.  But  that  was  nearly  four  hundred 
years  ago,  and  they  never  came  into  this  part  of 
the  country,  only  into  Texas.  And  they  had  n't 
any  iron  shirts  either,  scarcely  anything  to  put 
either  on  their  backs  or  into  their  stomachs." 

"Nevertheless,"  quavered  a  voice  almost  under 


THE  SEVEN  CITIES  OF  CIBOLA 

Oliver's  elbow,  "they  brought  the  iron  shirts,  and 
the  long-tailed  elk  whose  hooves  are  always  stum 
bling  among  our  burrows." 

The  children  had  to  look  close  to  make  out  the 
speckled  fluff  of  feathers  hunched  at  the  door  of 
its  hogan. 

"Meet  my  friend  Thla-po-po-ke-a,"  said  the 
Road-Runner,  who  had  picked  up  his  manners 
from  miners  and  cowboys  as  well  as  from  Spanish 
explorers. 

The  Burrowing  Owl  bobbed  in  her  own  hurried 
fashion.  "Often  and  often,"  she  insisted  with  a 
whispering  whoo-oo  running  through  all  the  sen 
tences,  "I've  heard  the  soldiers  say  that  it  was 
Cabeza  de  Vaca  put  it  into  the  head  of  the  King 
of  Spain  to  send  Francisco  Coronado  to  look  for 
the  Seven  Cities.  In  my  position  one  hears  the  best 
of  everything,"  went  on  Po-po-ke-a.  "That  is  be 
cause  all  the  important  things  happen  next  to  the 
ground.  Men  are  born  and  die  on  the  ground,  they 
spread  their  maps,  they  dream  dreams." 

The  children  could  see  how  this  would  be  in  a 
country  where  there  was  never  a  house  or  a  tree  and 
scarcely  anything  that  grew  more  than  knee-high 
to  a  man.  The  long  sand-swells,  and  the  shimmer 
of  heat-waves  in  the  air  looked  even  more  like  the 
sea  now  that  they  were  level  with  it.  Off  to  the 
right  what  seemed  a  vast  sheet  of  water  spread 
out  like  quicksilver  on  the  plain;  it  moved  with  a 

227 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

crawling  motion,  and  a  coyote  that  trotted  across 
their  line  of  vision  seemed  to  swim  in  it,  his  head 
just  showing  above  the  slight  billows. 

"It's  only  mirage,"  said  the  Road-Runner; 
"even  Indians  are  fooled  by  it  if  they  are  strange 
to  the  country.  But  it  is  quite  true  about  the 
ground  being  the  place  to  hear  things.  All  day  the 
Iron  Shirts  would  ride  in  a  kind  of  doze  of  sun  and 
weariness.  But  when  they  sat  at  meals,  loosening 
their  armor  buckles,  then  there  would  be  news. 
We  used  to  run  with  it  from  one  camp  to  another 
—  I  can  run  faster  than  a  horse  can  walk  —  until 
the  whole  mesa  would  hear  of  it." 

"But  the  night  is  the  time  for  true  talking,"  in 
sisted  Po-po-ke-a.  "It  was  then  we  heard  that 
when  Cabeza  de  Vaca  returned  to  Spain  he  made 
one  report  of  his  wanderings  to  the  public,  and  a 
secret  report  to  the  King.  Also  that  the  Captain- 
General  asked  to  be  sent  on  that  expedition  because 
he  had  married  a  young  wife  who  needed  much  gold. ' ' 

"At  that  time  we  had  not  heard  of  gold,"  said 
the  Road-Runner;  "the  Spaniards  talked  so  much 
of  it  we  thought  it  must  be  something  good  to  eat, 
but  it  turned  out  to  be  only  yellow  stones.  But  it 
was  not  all  Cabeza  de  Vaca's  doing.  There  was 
another  story  by  an  Indian,  Tejo,  who  told  the 
Governor  of  Mexico  that  he  remembered  going 
with  his  father  to  trade  in  the  Seven  Cities,  which 
were  as  large  as  the  City  of  Mexico,  with  whole 

228 


THE  SEVEN  CITIES  OF  CIBOLA 

streets  of  silver  workers,  and  blue  turquoises  over 
the  doors." 

"If  there  is  a  story  about  it — "  began  Oliver, 
looking  from  one  to  the  other  invitingly,  and  catch 
ing  them  looking  at  each  other  in  the  same  fashion. 

"Brother,  there  is  a  tail  to  you,"  said  the  Bur 
rowing  Owl  quickly,  which  seemed  to  the  children 
an' unnecessary  remark,  since  the  Road-Runner's 
long,  trim  tail  was  the  most  conspicuous  thing 
about  him.  It  tipped  and  tilted  and  waggled  almost 
like  a  dog's,  and  answered  every  purpose  of  conver 
sation. 

Now  he  ducked  forward  on  both  legs  in  an  absurd 
way  he  had.  "To  you,  my  sister  — "  which  is  the 
polite  method  of  story  asking  in  that  part  of  the 
country. 

"  My  word  bag  is  as  empty  as  my  stomach,"  said 
Po-po-ke-a,  who  had  eaten  nothing  since  the  night 
before  and  would  not  eat  until  night  again.  "Sons 
eso  —  to  your  story." 

"Sons  eso,  tse-na"  said  the  Road-Runner,  and 
began. 

"First,"  he  said,  "to  Hawikuh,  a  city  of  the 
Zufiis,  came  Estevan,  the  black  man  who  had  been 
with  Cabeza  de  Vaca,  with  a  rattle  in  his  hand  and 
very  black  behavior.  Him  the  Indians  killed,  and 
the  priest  who  was  with  him  they  frightened  away. 
Then  came  Coronado,  with  an  army  from  Mexico, 
riding  up  the  west  coast  and  turning  east  from  the 

229 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

River  of  the  Brand,  the  one  that  is  now  called 
Colorado,  which  is  no  name  at  all,  for  all  the  rivers 
hereabout  run  red  after  rain.  They  were  a  good 
company  of  men  and  captains,  and  many  of  those 
long-tailed  elk,  —  which  are  called  horses,  sister," 
said  the  Road-Runner  aside  to  Po-po-ke-a,  — 
"and  the  Indians  were  not  pleased  to  see  them." 

"That  was  because  there  had  been  a  long-tailed 
star  seen  over  To-ya-lanne,  the  sacred  mountain, 
some  years  before,  one  of  the  kind  that  is  called 
Trouble-Bringer.  They  thought  of  it  when  they 
looked  at  the  long  tails  of  the  new-fashioned  elk," 
said  Po-po-ke-a,  who  had  not  liked  being  set  right 
about  the  horses. 

"In  any  case,"  went  on  the  Road-Runner, 
"there  was  trouble.  Hawikuh  was  one  of  these 
little  crowded  pueblos,  looking  as  if  it  had  been 
crumpled  together  and  thrown  away,  and  though 
there  were  turquoises  over  the  doors,  they  were 
poor  ones,  and  there  was  no  gold.  And  as  Hawikuh, 
so  they  found  all  the  cities  of  Cibola,  and  the  cities 
of  the  Queres,  east  to  the  River  of  White  Rocks." 

Dorcas  Jane  nudged  Oliver  to  remind  him  of  the 
Corn  Woman  and  Tse-tse-yote.  All  the  stories  of 
that  country,  like  the  trails,  seemed  to  run  into  one 
another. 

"Terrible  things  happened  around  Tiguex  and  at 
Cicuye,  which  is  now  Pecos,"  said  the  Road-Run 
ner,  "for  the  Spaniards  were  furious  at  finding  no 

230 


THE  SEVEN  CITIES  OF  CIBOLA 

gold,  and  the  poor  Indians  could  never  make  up 
their  minds  whether  these  were  gods  to  be  wor 
shiped,  or  a  strange  people  coming  to  conquer  them, 
who  must  be  fought.  They  were  not  sure  whether 
the  iron  shirts  were  to  be  dreaded  as  magic,  or 
coveted  as  something  they  could  use  themselves. 
As  for  the  horses,  they  both  feared  and  hated  them. 
But  there  was  one  man  who  made  up  his  mind  very 
quickly. 

"He  was  neither  Queres  nor  Zuni,  but  a  plains 
man,  a  captive  of  their  wars.  He  was  taller  than 
our  men,  leaner  and  sharp-looking.  His  god  was 
the  Morning  Star.  He  made  sacrifices  to  it.  The 
Spaniards  called  him  the  Turk,  saying  he  looked 
like  one.  We  did  not  know  what  that  meant,  for 
we  had  only  heard  of  turkeys  which  the  Queres 
raised  for  their  feathers,  and  he  was  not  in  the  least 
like  one  of  these.  But  he  knew  that  the  Spaniards 
were  men,  and  was  almost  a  match  for  them.  He 
had  the  Inknowing  Thought." 

The  Road-Bunner  cocked  his  head  on  one  side 
and  observed  the  children,  to  see  if  they  knew  what 
this  meant. 

"Is  it  anything  like  far-looking?"  asked  Dorcas. 

"It  is  something  none  of  my  people  ever  had," 
said  the  Boad-Bunner.  "  The  Indian  who  was  called 
the  Turk  could  look  in  a  bowl  of  water  in  the  sun, 
or  in  the  water  of  the  Stone  Pond,  and  he  could 
see  jthings  that  happened  at  a  distance,  or  in  times 

231 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

past.  He  proved  to  the  Spaniards  that  he  could  do 
this,  but  their  priests  said  it  was  the  Devil  and 
would  have  nothing  to  do  with  it,  which  was  a 
great  pity.  He  could  have  saved  them  a  great 
deal." 

"Hoo,  hoo!"  said  the  Burrowing  Owl;  "he  could 
not  even  save  himself;  and  none  of  the  things  he 
told  to  the  Spaniards  were  true." 

"He  was  not  thinking  for  himself,"  said  the 
Road-Runner,  "  but  for  his  people.  The  longer  he 
was  away  from  them  the  more  he  thought,  and  his 
thoughts  were  good,  even  though  he  did  not  tell 
the  truth  to  the  Iron  Shirts.  They,  at  least,  did  not 
deserve  it.  For  when  the  people  of  Zuni  and  Cicuye 
and  Tiguex  would  not  tell  them  where  the  sacred 
gold  was  hid,  there  were  terrible  things  done.  That 
winter  when  the  days  were  cold,  the  food  was  low 
and  the  soldiers  fretful.  Many  an  Indian  kept  the 
secret  with  his  life." 

4 '  Did  the  Indians  really  know  where  the  gold  was  ? ' ' 
The  children  knew  that,  according  to  the  geogra 
phies,  there  are  both  gold  and  silver  in  New  Mexico. 

"  Some  of  them  did,  but  gold  was  sacred  to  them. 
They  called  it  the  stone  of  the  Sun,  which  they  wor 
shiped,  and  the  places  where  it  was  found  were  holy 
and  secret.  They  let  themselves  be  burned  rather 
than  tell.  Besides,  they  thought  that  if  the  Spaniards 
were  convinced  there  was  no  gold,  they  would  go 
away  the  sooner.  One  thing  they  were  sure  of:  gods 


THE  SEVEN  CITIES  OF  CIBOLA 

or  men,  it  would  be  better  for  the  people  of  the 
pueblos  if  they  went  away.  Day  and  night  the  tombes 
would  be  sounding  in  the  kivas,  and  prayer  plumes 
planted  in  all  the  sacred  places.  Then  it  was  that 
the  Turk  went  to  the  Caciques  sitting  in  council. 

'"If  the  strangers  should  hear  that  there  is  gold 
in  my  country,  there  is  nothing  would  keep  them 
from  going  there.' 

"'That  is  so,'  said  the  Caciques. 

"'And  if  they  went  to  my  country,'  said  the 
Turk,  'who  but  I  could  guide  them?' 

'"And  how  long,'  said  the  Caciques,  'do  you 
think  a  guide  would  live  after  they  discovered  that 
he  had  lied?'  For  they  knew  very  well  there  was 
no  gold  in  the  Turk's  country. 

" '  I  should  at  least  have  seen  my  own  land,'  said 
the  Turk,  '  and  here  I  am  a  slave  to  you.' 

"The  Caciques  considered.  Said  they,  'It  is 
nothing  to  us  where  and  how  you  die.' 

"  So  the  Turk  caused  himself  to  be  taken  prisoner 
by  the  Spaniards,  and  talked  among  them,  until 
it  was  finally  brought  to  the  Captain-General's  ears 
that  in  the  Turk's  country  of  Quivira,  the  people 
ate  off  plates  of  gold,  and  the  Chief  of  that  country 
took  his  afternoon  nap  under  a  tree  hung  with 
golden  bells  that  rung  him  to  sleep.  Also  that 
there  was  a  river  there,  two  leagues  wide,  and  that 
the  boats  carried  twenty  rowers  to  a  side  with  the 
Chief  under  the  awning." 

233 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

"That  at  least  was  true,"  said  the  Burrowing 
Owl;  "there  were  towns  on  the  Missi-sippu  where 
the  Chiefs  sat  in  balconies  on  high  mounds  and  the 
women  fanned  them  with  great  fans." 

"Not  in  Quivira,  which  the  Turk  claimed  for  his 
own  country.  But  it  all  worked  together,  for  when 
the  Spaniards  learned  that  the  one  thing  was  true, 
they  were  the  more  ready  to  believe  the  other.  It 
was  always  easy  to  get  them  to  believe  any  tale 
which  had  gold  in  it.  They  were  so  eager  to  set 
out  for  Quivira  that  they  could  scarcely  be  per 
suaded  to  take  food  enough,  saying  they  would 
have  all  the  more  room  on  their  horses  for  the  gold. 

"They  forded  the  Rio  Grande  near  Tiguex, 
traveled  east  to  Cicuye  on  the  Pecos  River,  and 
turned  south  looking  for  the  Turk's  country,  which 
is  not  in  that  direction." 

"But  why  — "  began  Oliver. 

"Look!"  said  the  Road-Runner. 

The  children  saw  the  plains  of  Texas  stretching 
under  the  heat  haze,  stark  sand  in  wind-blown 
dunes,  tall  stakes  of  sahuaro  marching  wide  apart, 
hot,  trackless  sand  in  which  a  horse's  foot  sinks 
to  the  fetlock,  and  here  and  there  raw  gashes  in 
the  earth  for  rivers  that  did  not  run,  except  now 
and  then  in  fierce  and  ungovernable  floods.  North 
ward  the  plains  passed  out  of  sight  in  trackless, 
grass-covered  prairies,  day's  journey  upon  day's 
journey. 

234 


THE  SEVEN  CITIES  OF  CIBOLA 

"It  was  the  Caciques'  idea  that  the  Turk  was  to 
lose  the  strangers  there,  or  to  weaken  them  beyond 
resistance  by  thirst  and  hunger  and  hostile  tribes. 
But  the  buffalo  had  come  south  that  winter  for  the 
early  grass.  They  were  so  thick  they  looked  like  trees 
walking,  to  the  Spaniards  as  they  lay  on  the  ground 
and  saw  the  sky  between  their  huge  bodies  and  the 
flat  plain.  And  the  wandering  bands  of  Querechos 
that  the  Expedition  met  proved  friendly.  They 
were  the  same  who  had  known  Cabeza  de  Vaca, 
and  they  had  a  high  opinion  of  white  men.  They 
gave  the  Spaniards  food  and  proved  to  them  that 
it  was  much  farther  to  the  cities  of  the  Missi-sippu 
than  the  Turk  had  said. 

"By  that  time  Coronado  had  himself  begun  to 
suspect  that  he  should  never  find  the  golden  bells  of 
Quivira,  but  with  the  King  and  Dona  Beatris  be 
hind  him,  there  was  nothing  for  him  to  do  but  go 
forward.  He  sent  the  army  back  to  Tiguex,  and, 
with  thirty  men  and  all  the  best  horses,  turned 
north  in  as  straight  a  track  as  the  land  permitted, 
to  the  Turk's  country.  And  all  that  journey  he  kept 
the  Turk  in  chains. 

"Even  though  he  had  not  succeeded  in  getting 
rid  of  the  Iron  Shirts,  the  Turk  was  not  so  disap 
pointed  as  he  might  have  been.  The  Caciques  did 
not  know  it,  but  killing  the  strangers  or  losing  them 
had  been  only  a  part  of  his  plan. 

"  All  that  winter  at  Tiguex  the  Turk  had  seen  the 

235 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

horses  die,  or  grow  sick  and  well  again;  some  of 
them  had  had  colts,  and  he  had  come  to  the  con 
clusion  that  they  were  simply  animals  like  elk  or 
deer,  only  more  useful. 

"The  Turk  was  a  Pawnee,  one  of  those  roving 
bands  that  build  grass  houses  and  follow  the  buffalo 
for  food.  They  ran  the  herds  into  a  piskune  below 
a  bluff,  over  which  they  rushed  and  were  killed. 
Sometimes  the  hunters  themselves  were  caught  in 
the  rush  and  trampled.  It  came  into  the  Turk's 
mind,  as  he  watched  the  Spaniards  going  to  hunt 
on  horseback,  that  the  Morning  Star,  to  whom  he 
made  sacrifices  for  his  return  from  captivity,  had 
sent  him  into  Zuni  to  learn  about  horses,  and  take 
them  back  to  his  people.  Whatever  happened  to 
the  Iron  Shirts  on  that  journey,  he  had  not  meant 
to  lose  the  horses.  Even  though  suspected  and  in 
chains  he  might  still  do  a  great  service  to  his  people. 

"  When  the  Querechos  were  driving  buffalo,  some 
of  the  horses  were  caught  up  in  the  'surround,' 
carried  away  with  the  rush  of  the  stampeding 
herd,  and  never  recovered.  Others  that  broke 
away  in  a  terrible  hailstorm  succeeded  in  getting 
out  of  the  ravine  where  the  army  had  taken  shel 
ter,  and  no  one  noticed  that  it  was  always  at 
the  point  where  the  Turk  was  helping  to  herd 
them,  that  the  horses  escaped.  Even  after  he  was 
put  in  chains  and  kept  under  the  General's  eye  on 
the  way  to  Quivira,  now  and  then  there  would  be  a 

236 


THE  SEVEN  CITIES  OF  CIBOLA 

horse,  usually  a  mare  with  a  colt,  who  slipped  her 
stake-rope.  Little  gray  coyotes  came  in  the  night 
and  gnawed  them.  But  coyotes  will  not  gnaw  a 
rope  unless  it  has  been  well  rubbed  with  buffalo 
fat,"  said  the  Road-Runner. 

"  I  should  have  thought  the  Spaniards  would  have 
caught  him  at  it,"  said  Oliver. 

"White  men,  when  they  are  thinking  of  gold," 
said  the  Road-Runner,  "are  particularly  stupid 
about  other  things.  There  was  a  man  of  the 
Wichitas,  a  painted  Indian  called  Ysopete,  who 
told  them  from  the  beginning  that  the  Turk  lied 
about  the  gold.  But  the  Spaniards  preferred  to  be 
lieve  that  the  Indians  were  trying  to  keep  the  gold 
for  themselves.  They  did  not  see  that  the  Turk  was 
losing  their  horses  one  by  one ;  no  more  did  they  see, 
as  they  neared  Quivira,  that  every  day  he  called  his 
people. 

"There  are  many  things  an  Indian  can  do  and  a 
white  man  not  catch  him  at  it.  The  Turk  would 
sit  and  feed  the  fire  at  evening,  now  a  bundle 
of  dry  brush  and  then  a  handful  of  wet  grass, 
smoke  and  smudge,  such  as  hunters  use  to  signal 
the  movements  of  the  quarry.  He  would  stand 
listening  to  the  captains  scold  him,  and  push  small 
stones  together  with  his  foot  for  a  sign.  He  could 
slip  in  the  trail  and  break  twigs  so  that  Pawnees 
could  read.  When  strange  Indians  were  brought 
into  camp,  though  he  could  only  speak  to  them  in 

237 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

the  language  of  signs,  he  asked  for  a  Pawnee  called 
Running  Elk,  who  had  been  his  friend  before  he  was 
carried  captive  into  Zuni  Land.  They  had  mingled 
their  blood  after  the  custom  of  friendship  and  were 
more  than  brothers  to  one  another.  And  though  the 
Iron  Shirts  looked  at  him  with  more  suspicion  every 
day,  he  was  almost  happy.  He  smelled  sweet-grass 
and  the  dust  of  his  own  country,  and  spoke  face  to 
face  with  the  Morning  Star. 

"I  do  not  understand  about  stars,"  said  the 
Road-Runner.  "  It  seems  that  some  of  them  travel 
about  and  do  not  look  the  same  from  different 
places.  In  Zuni  Land  where  there  are  mountains, 
the  Turk  was  not  always  sure  of  his  god,  but  in  the 
Pawnee  country  it  is  easily  seen  that  he  is  the  Cap 
tain  of  the  Sky.  You  can  lie  on  the  ground  there 
and  lose  sight  of  the  earth  altogether.  Mornings 
the  Turk  would  look  up  from  his  chains  to  see  his 
Star,  white  against  the  rosy  stain,  and  was  com 
forted.  It  was  the  Star,  I  suppose,  that  brought 
him  his  friend. 

"  For  four  or  five  days  after  Running  Elk  discov 
ered  that  the  Turk  was  captive  to  the  Iron  Shirts, 
he  would  lurk  in  the  tall  grass  and  the  river  growth, 
making  smoke  signals.  Like  a  coyote  he  would  call 
at  night,  and  though  the  Turk  heard  him,  he  dared 
not  answer.  Finally  he  hit  upon  the  idea  of  mak 
ing  songs.  He  Avould  sing  and  nobody  could  under 
stand  him  but  Running  Elk,  who  lay  in  the  grass, 

238 


THE  SEVEN  CITIES  OF  CIBOLA 

and  finally  had  courage  to  come  into  the  camp  in 
broad  day,  selling  buffalo  meat  and  wild  plums. 

"  There  was  a  bay  mare  with  twin  colts  that  the 
Turk  wished  him  to  loose  from  her  rope  and  drive 
away,  but  Running  Elk  was  afraid.  Cold  mornings 
the  Indian  could  see  the  smoke  of  the  horses'  nostrils 
and  thought  that  they  breathed  fire.  But  the  Turk 
made  his  friend  believe  at  last  that  the  horse  is  a 
great  gift  to  man,  by  the  same  means  that  he  had 
made  the  Spaniards  think  him  evil,  by  the  In- 
knowing  Thought. 

"'It  is  as  true,'  said  the  Turk,  'that  the  horse  is 
only  another  sort  of  elk,  as  that  my  wife  is  married 
again  and  my  son  died  fighting  the  Ho-he.'  All  of 
which  was  exactly  as  it  had  happened,  for  his  wife 
had  never  expected  that  he  would  come  back  from 
captivity.  '  It  is  also  true,'  the  Turk  told  him, '  that 
very  soon  I  shall  join  my  son.' 

"For  he  was  sure  by  this  time  that  when  the 
Spaniards  had  to  give  up  the  hope  of  gold,  they 
would  kill  him.  He  told  Running  Elk  all  the 
care  of  horses  as  he  had  learned  it,  and  where  he 
thought  those  that  had  been  lost  from  Coronado's 
band  might  be  found.  Of  the  Iron  Shirts,  he  said 
that  they  were  great  Medicine,  and  the  Pawnees 
were  by  all  means  to  get  one  or  two  of  them. 

"By  this  time  the  Expedition  had  reached  the 
country  of  the  Wichitas,  which  is  Quivira,  and 
there  was  no  gold,  no  metal  of  any  sort  but  a  copper 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

gorget  around  the  Chief's  neck,  and  a  few  arm 
bands.  The  night  that  Coronada  bought  the  Chief's 
gorget  to  send  to  his  king,  as  proof  that  he  had 
found  no  gold,  Running  Elk  heard  the  Turk  sing 
ing.  It  was  no  song  of  secret  meaning;  it  was  his 
own  song,  such  as  a  man  makes  to  sing  when  he 
sees  his  death  facing  him. 

"All  that  night  the  Turk  waited  in  his  chains  for 
the  rising  of  his  Star.  There  was  something  about 
which  he  must  talk  to  it.  He  had  made  a  gift  of 
the  horse  to  his  people,  but  there  was  no  sacrifice 
to  wash  away  all  that  was  evil  in  the  giving  and 
make  it  wholly  blessed.  All  night  the  creatures  of 
the  earth  heard  the  Turk  whisper  at  his  praying, 
asking  for  a  sacrifice. 

"And  when  the  Star  flared  white  before  the 
morning,  a  voice  was  in  the  air  saying  that  he  him 
self  was  to  be  the  sacrifice.  It  was  the  voice  of  the 
Morning  Star  walking  between  the  hills,  and  the 
Turk  was  happy.  The  doves  by  the  water-courses 
heard  him  with  the  first  flush  of  the  dawn  waking 
the  Expedition  with  his  death  song.  Loudly  the 
Spaniards  swore  at  him,  but  he  sang  on  steadily 
till  they  came  to  take  him  before  the  General, 
whose  custom  it  was  to  settle  all  complaints  the 
first  thing  in  the  morning.  The  soldiers  thought 
that  since  it  was  evident  the  Turk  had  purposely 
misled  them  about  the  gold  and  other  things,  he 
ought  to  die  for  it.  The  General  was  in  a  bad  humor. 

240 


THE  SEVEN  CITIES  OF  CIBOLA 

One  of  his  best  mares  with  her  colts  had  frayed  her 
stake-rope  on  a  stone  that  night  and  escaped. 
Nevertheless,  being  a  just  man,  he  asked  the  Turk 
if  he  had  anything  to  say.  Upon  which  the  Turk 
told  them  all  that  the  Caciques  had  said,  and  what 
he  himself  had  done,  all  except  about  the  horses, 
and  especially  about  the  bay  mare  and  Running 
Elk.  About  that  he  was  silent.  He  kept  his  eyes 
upon  the  Star,  where  it  burned  white  on  the  hori 
zon.  It  was  at  its  last  wink,  paling  before  the  sun, 
when  they  killed  him." 

The  children  drew  a  long  breath  that  could 
hardly  be  distinguished  from  the  soft  whispering 
whoo-hoo  of  the  Burrowing  Owl. 

"So  in  spite  of  his  in-knowing  he  could  not  save 
himself,"  Dorcas  Jane  insisted,  "and  his  Star  could 
not  save  him.  If  he  had  looked  in  the  earth  instead 
of  the  heavens  he  would  have  found  gold  and  the 
Spaniards  would  have  given  him  all  the  horses  he 
wanted." 

"You  forget,"  said  the  Road-Runner,  "that  he 
know  no  more  than  the  Iron  Shirts  did,  where  the 
gold  was  to  be  found.  There  were  not  more  than 
two  or  three  in  any  one  of  the  Seven  Cities  that 
ever  knew.  Ho-tai  of  Matsaki  was  the  last  of 
those,  and  his  own  wife  let  him  be  killed  rather 
than  betray  the  secret  of  the  Holy  Places." 

"Oh,  if  you  please  — "  began  the  children. 

241 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

"It  is  a  town  story,"  said  the  Road-Runner, 
"but  the  Condor  that  has  his  nest  on  El  Mono, 
he  might  tell  you.  He  was  captive  once  in  a  cage  at 
Zuni."  The  Road-Runner  balanced  on  his  slender 
legs  and  cocked  his  head  trailwise.  Any  kind  of 
inactivity  bored  him  dreadfully.  The  burrowing 
owls  were  all  out  at  the  doors  of  their  hogans,  their 
heads  turning  with  lightning  swiftness  from  side  to 
side;  the  shadows  were  long  in  the  low  sun.  "It  is 
directly  in  the  trail  from  the  Rio  Grande  to  Acoma, 
the  old  trail  to  Zuni,"  said  the  Road-Runner,  and 
without  waiting  to  see  whether  or  not  the  children 
followed  him,  he  set  off. 


XIV 

HOW  THE  MAN  OF  TWO  HEARTS  KEPT  THE  SECRET  OF 
THE  HOLY  PLACES;  TOLD  BY  THE  CONDOR 

"IN  the  days  of  our  Ancients,"  said  the  Road 
Runner  between  short  skimming  runs,  "this  was 
the  only  trail  from  the  river  to  the  Middle  Ant  Hill 
of  the  World.  The  eastern  end  of  it  changed  like  the 
tip  of  a  wild  gourd  vine  as  the  towns  moved  up  and 
down  the  river  or  the  Queres  crossed  from  Katzimo 
to  the  rock  of  Acoma ;  but  always  Zuni  was  the  root, 
and  the  end  of  the  first  day's  journey  was  the  Rock." 
Each  time  he  took  his  runs  afresh,  like  a  kicking 
stick  in  a  race,  and  waited  for  the  children  to  catch 
up.  The  sands  as  they  went  changed  from  gray  to 
gleaming  pearl ;  on  either  side  great  islands  of  stone 
thinned  and  swelled  like  sails  and  took  on  rosy 
lights  and  lilac  shadows. 

243 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

They  crossed  a  high  plateau  with  somber  cones 
of  extinct  volcanoes,  crowding  between  rivers  of 
block  rock  along  its  rim.  Northward  a  wilder 
ness  of  pines  guarded  the  mesa;  dark  junipers, 
each  one  with  a  secret  look,  browsed  wide  apart. 
They  thickened  in  the  canons  from  which  arose 
the  white  bastions  of  the  Rock. 

Closer  up,  El  Morro  showed  as  the  wedge-shaped 
end  of  a  high  mesa,  soaring  into  cliffs  and  pinnacles, 
on  the  very  tip  of  which  they  could  just  make  out 
the  hunched  figure  of  the  great  Condor. 

"El  Morro,  'the  Castle,'  the  Spaniards  called 
it,"  said  the  Road-Runner,  casting  himself  along 
the  laps  of  the  trail  like  a  feathered  dart.  "But  to 
our  Ancients  it  was  always  '  The  Rock.'  On  winter 
journeys  they  camped  on  the  south  side  to  get  the 
sun,  and  in  summers  they  took  the  shade  on  the 
north.  They  carved  names  and  messages  for  those 
that  were  to  come  after,  with  flint  knives,  with 
swords  and  Spanish  daggers.  Men  are  all  very 
much  alike,"  said  the  Road-Runner. 

On  the  smooth  sandstone  cliffs  the  children  could 
make  out  strange,  weathered  picture-writings,  and 
twisty  inscriptions  in  much  abbreviated  Spanish 
which  they  could  not  read. 

The  white  sand  at  the  foot  of  the  Rock  was 
strewn  with  flakes  of  charcoal  from  the  fires  of 
ancient  camps.  A  little  to  the  south  of  the  cliff, 
that  towered  two  hundred  feet  and  more  above 

244 


THE  SECRET  OF  THE  HOLY  PLACES 

them,  shallow  footholds  were  cut  into  the  sand 
stone. 

"  There  were  pueblos  at  the  top  in  the  old  days," 
said  the  Road-Runner,  "facing  across  a  deep  di 
vide,  but  nobody  goes  there  now  except  owls  that 
have  their  nests  in  the  ruins,  and  the  last  of  the 
Condors,  who  since  old  time  have  made  their  home 
in  the  pinnacles  of  the  Rock.  He'll  have  seen  us 
coming."  The  children  looked  up  as  a  sailing 
shadow  began  to  circle  about  them  on  the  evening- 
colored  sands.  "You  can  see  by  the  frayed  edges 
of  his  wing  feathers  that  he  has  a  long  time  for 
remembering,"  said  the  Road-Runner. 

The  great  bird  came  slowly  to  earth,  close  by  the 
lone  pine  that  tasseled  out  against  the  south  side 
of  El  Morro  and  the  Road-Runner  ducked  several 
times  politely. 

"My  children,  how  is  it  with  you  these  days?" 
asked  the  Condor  with  great  dignity. 

"Happy,  happy,  Grandfather.  And  you?" 

The  Condor  assured  them  that  he  was  very 
happy,  and  seeing  that  no  one  made  any  other 
remark,  he  added,  after  an  interval,  looking  point 
edly  at  the  children,  "  It  is  not  thinking  of  nothing 
that  strangers  come  to  the  house  of  a  stranger." 

"True,  Grandfather,"  said  the  Road-Runner; 
"we  are  thinking  of  the  gold,  the  seed  of  the  Sun, 
that  the  Spaniards  did  not  find.  Is  there  left  to 
you  any  of  the  remembrance  of  these  things?  " 

245 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

"Hai,  hai!"  The  Condor  stretched  his  broad 
wings  and  settled  himself  comfortably  on  a  nubbin 
of  sandstone.  "Of  which  of  these  who  passed  will 
you  hear?"  He  indicated  the  inscriptions  on  the 
rock,  and  then  by  way  of  explanation  he  said  to 
the  children,  "I  am  town-hatched  myself.  Lads 
of  Zuni  took  my  egg  and  hatched  it  under  a  turkey 
hen,  at  the  Ant  Hill.  They  kept  my  wings  clipped, 
but  once  they  forgot,  so  I  came  away  to  the  ancient 
home  of  my  people.  But  in  the  days  of  my  cap 
tivity  I  learned  many  tales  and  the  best  manner  of 
telling  them.  Also  the  Tellings  of  my  own  people 
who  kept  the  Rock.  They  fit  into  one  another  like 
the  arrow  point  to  the  shaft.  Look ! "  —  he  pointed 
to  an  inscription  protected  by  a  little  brow  of  sand 
stone,  near  the  lone  pine.  "Juan  de  Onate  did  that 
when  he  passed  to  the  discovery  of  the  Sea  of  the 
South.  He  it  was  who  built  the  towns,  even  the 
chief  town  of  Santa  Fe. 

"There  signed  with  his  sword,  Vargas,  who  re 
conquered  the  pueblos  after  the  rebellion  —  yes, 
they  rebelled  again  and  again.  On  the  other  side  of 
the  Rock  you  can  read  how  Governor  Nieto  carried 
the  faith  to  them.  They  came  and  went,  the  Iron 
Shirts,  through  two  hundred  years.  You  can  see 
the  marks  of  their  iron  hats  on  some  of  the  rafters 
of  Zuni  town  to  this  day,  but  small  was  the  mark 
they  left  on  the  hearts  of  the  Zunis." 

"Is  that  so!"  said  the  Road-Runner,  which  is  a 

246 


THE  SECRET  OF  THE  HOLY  PLACES 

polite  way  of  saying  that  you  think  the  story  worth 
going  on  with;  and  then  cocking  his  eye  at  the  in 
scription,  he  hinted,  "I  have  heard  that  the  Long 
Gowns,  the  Padres  who  came  with  them,  were  mas 
ter-workers  in  hearts." 

"It  is  so,"  said  the  Condor.  "I  remember  the 
first  of  them  who  managed  to  build  a  church  here, 
Padre  Francisco  Letrado.  Here!"  He  drew  their 
attention  to  an  inscription  almost  weathered  away, 
and  looking  more  like  the  native  picture-writings 
than  the  signature  of  a  Spanish  gentleman.  He 
read:  — 

"They  passed  on  the  23d  of  March  of  1882  years 
to  the  avenging  of  the  death  of  Father  Letrado." 
It  was  signed  simply  "Lujan." 

"There  is  a  Telling  of  that  passing  and  of  that 
soldier  which  has  to  do  with  the  gold  that  was 
never  found." 

"Sons  650,"  said  the  Road-Runner,  and  they 
settled  themselves  to  listen. 

'"About  the  third  of  a  man's  life  would  have 
passed  between  the  time  when  Ofiate  came  to  the 
founding  of  Santa  Fe,  and  the  building  of  the  first 
church  by  Father  Letrado.  There  were  Padres 
before  that,  and  many  baptizings.  The  Zunis  were 
always  glad  to  learn  new  ways  of  persuading  the 
gods  to  be  on  their  side,  and  they  thought  the 
prayers  and  ceremonies  of  the  Padres  very  good 
Medicine  indeed.  They  thought  the  Iron  Shirts 

247 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

were  gods  themselves,  and  when  they  came  re 
ceived  them  with  sprinklings  of  sacred  meal.  But 
it  was  not  until  Father  Letrado's  time  that  it  began 
to  be  understood  that  the  new  religion  was  to  take 
the  place  of  their  own,  for  to  the  Indians  there  is 
but  one  spirit  in  things,  as  there  is  one  life  in  man. 
They  thought  their  own  prayers  as  good  as  any 
that  were  taught  them. 

"But  Father  Letrado  was  zealous  and  he  was 
old.  He  made  a  rule  that  all  should  come  to  the 
service  of  his  church  and  that  they  should  obey 
him  and  reverence  him  when  they  met,  with  bow 
ings  and  kissings  of  his  robe.  It  is  not  easy  to  teach 
reverence  to  a  free  people,  and  the  men  of  the  Ant 
Hill  had  been  always  free.  But  the  worst  of  Father 
Letrado's  rulings  was  that  there  were  to  be  no  more 
prayers  in  the  kivas,  no  dancings  to  the  gods  nor 
scatterings  of  sacred  pollen  and  planting  of  plumes. 
Also  —  this  is  not  known,  I  think  —  that  the  sacred 
places  where  the  Sun  had  planted  the  seed  of  itself 
should  be  told  to  the  Padres." 

"He  means  the  places  where  the  gold  is  found 
mixed  with  the  earth  and  the  sand,"  explained  the 
Road-Runner  to  Dorcas  Jane  and  Oliver. 

"In  the  days  of  the  Ancients,"  said  the  Condor, 
"when  such  a  place  was  found,  it  was  told  to  the 
Priests  of  the  Bow,  and  kept  in  reverence  by  the 
whole  people.  But  since  the  Zunis  had  discovered 
what  things  white  men  will  do  for  gold,  there  had 

248 


THE  SECRET  OF  THE  HOLY  PLACES 

been  fewer  and  fewer  who  held  the  secret.  The 
Spaniards  had  burnt  too  many  of  those  who  were 
suspected  of  knowing,  for  one  thing,  and  they  had 
a  drink  which,  when  they  gave  to  the  Indians,  let 
the  truth  out  of  their  mouths  as  it  would  not  have 
gone  when  they  were  sober. 

"  At  the  time  Father  Letrado  built  his  first  chapel 
there  was  but  one  man  in  Hawikuh  who  knew. 

"  He  was  a  man  of  two  natures.  His  mother  had 
been  a  woman  of  the  Matsaki,  and  his  father  one  of 
the  Onate's  men,  so  that  he  was  half  of  the  Sun  and 
half  of  the  Moon,  as  we  say,  —  for  the  Zunis  called 
the  first  half- white  children,  Moon-children,  —  and 
his  heart  was  pulled  two  ways,  as  I  have  heard  the 
World  Encompassing  Water  is  pulled  two  ways  by 
the  Sun  and  the  Moon.  Therefore,  he  was  called 
Ho-tai  the  Two-Hearted. 

"  What  finally  pulled  his  heart  out  of  his  bosom 
was  the  love  he  had  for  his  wife.  Flower-of-the- 
Maguey,  she  was  called,  and  she  was  beautiful  be 
yond  all  naming.  She  was  daughter  to  the  Chief 
Priest  of  the  Bow,  and  young  men  from  all  the 
seven  towns  courted  her.  But  though  she  was 
lovely  and  quiet  she  was  not  as  she  seemed  to  be. 
She  was  a  Passing  Being."  The  Condor  thought 
fully  stretched  his  wings  as  he  considered  how  to 
explain  this  to  the  children. 

"Such  there  are,"  he  said.  "They  are  shaped 
from  within  outward  by  their  own  wills.  They  have 

£49 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

the  power  to  take  the  human  form  and  leave  it. 
But  it  was  not  until  she  had  been  with  her  mother 
to  To-yalanne,  the  sacred  Thunder  Mountain,  as 
is  the  custom  when  maidens  reach  the  marriageable 
age,  that  her  power  came  to  her.  She  was  weary 
with  gathering  the  sacred  flower  pollen;  she  lay 
under  a  maguey  in  the  warm  sun  and  felt  the  light 
airs  play  over  her.  Her  breath  came  evenly  and  the 
wind  lifted  her  long  hair  as  it  lay  along  her  sides. 

"Strangely  she  felt  the  pull  of  the  wind  on  her 
hair,  all  along  her  body.  She  looked  and  saw  it  turn 
short  and  tawny  in  the  sun,  and  the  shape  of  her 
limbs  fitted  to  the  sandy  hollows.  Thus  she  under 
stood  that  she  was  become  another  being,  Moke- 
iche,  the  puma.  She  bounded  about  in  the  sun  and 
chased  the  blue  and  yellow  butterflies.  After  a  time 
she  heard  the  voice  of  her  mother  calling,  and  it 
pulled  at  her  heart.  She  let  her  heart  have  way  and 
became  a  maid  again.  But  often  she  would  steal 
out  after  that,  when  the  wind  brought  her  the  smell 
of  the  maguey,  or  at  night  when  the  moon  walked 
low  over  To-yalanne,  and  play  as  puma.  Her  par 
ents  saw  that  she  had  power  more  than  is  com 
mon  to  maidens,  but  she  was  wise  and  modest,  and 
they  loved  her  and  said  nothing. 

"'Let  her  have  a  husband  and  children,'  they 
said,  'and  her  strangeness  will  pass.'  But  they 
were  very  much  disappointed  at  what  happened  to 
all  the  young  men  who  came  a-courting. 

250 


THE  SECRET  OF  THE  HOLY  PLACES 

"This  is  the  fashion  of  a  Zuni  courting:  The 
young  man  says  to  his  Old  Ones,  '  I  have  seen  the 
daughter  of  the  Priest  of  the  Bow  at  the  Middle 
Ant  Hill,  what  think  ye?'  And  if  they  said,  'Be  it 
well!'  he  gathered  his  presents  into  a  bundle  and 
went  to  knock  at  the  sky-hole  of  her  father's 
house. 

"'She!9  he  said,  and  'Hair  they  answered  from 
within.  'Help  me  down,'  he  would  say,  which  was 
to  tell  them  that  he  had  a  bundle  with  him  and  it 
was  a  large  one.  Then  the  mother  of  the  girl  would 
know  what  was  afoot.  She  would  rise  and  pull  the 
bundle  down  through  the  sky-hole  —  all  pueblo 
houses  are  entered  from  the  top,  did  you  not 
know?"  asked  the  Condor. 

The  children  nodded,  not  to  interrupt;  they  had 
seen  as  they  came  along  the  trail  the  high  terraced 
houses  with  the  ladders  sticking  out  of  the  door- 
holes. 

"Then  there  was  much  politeness  on  both  sides, 
politeness  of  food  offered  and  eaten  and  questions 
asked,  until  the  girl's  parents  were  satisfied  that  the 
match  would  be  a  good  one.  Finally,  the  Old  Ones 
would  stretch  themselves  out  in  their  corners  and 
begin  to  scrape  their  nostrils  with  their  breath  — 
thus,"  said  the  Condor,  making  a  gentle  sound  of 
snoring;  "for  it  was  thought  proper  for  the  young 
people  to  have  a  word  or  two  together.  The  girl 
would  set  the  young  man  a  task,  so  as  not  to  seem 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

too  easily  won,  and  to  prove  if  he  were  the  sort  of 
man  she  wished  for  a  husband. 

' '  Only  possibly  you  love  me,'  said  the  daughter 
of  the  Chief  Priest  of  the  Bow.  '  Go  out  with  the 
light  to-morrow  to  hunt  and  return  with  it,  bringing 
your  kill,  that  I  may  see  how  much  you  can  do  for 
my  sake.' 

"But  long  before  light  the  girl  would  go  out  her 
self  as  a  puma  and  scare  the  game  away.  Thus  it 
happened  every  time  that  the  young  man  would 
return  at  evening  empty-handed,  or  he  would  be 
so  mortified  that  he  did  not  return  at  all,  and  the 
girl's  parents  would  send  the  bundle  back  to  him. 
The  Chief  Priest  and  his  wife  began  to  be  uneasy 
lest  their  daughter  should  never  marry  at  all. 

"Finally  Ho-tai  of  the  pueblo  of  Matsaki  heard 
of  her,  and  said  to  his  mother, '  That  is  the  wife  for 
me.' 

"'Shoom!'  said  his  mother;  'what  have  you  to 
offer  her? '  for  they  were  very  poor. 

" '  Shoom  yourself! '  said  Ho-tai.  '  He  that  is  poor 
in  spirit  as  well  as  in  appearance,  is  poor  indeed. 
It  is  plain  she  is  not  looking  for  a  bundle,  but  for  a 
man.'  So  he  took  what  presents  he  had  to  the  house 
of  the  Chief  Priest  of  the  Bow,  and  everything  went 
as  usual;  except  that  when  Ho-tai  asked  them  to 
help  him  in,  the  Chief  Priest  said, '  Be  yourself  with 
in,'  for  he  was  growing  tired  of  courtings  that  came 
to  nothing.  But  when  Ho-tai  came  cheerfully  down 


THE  SECRET  OF  THE  HOLY  PLACES 

the  ladder  with  his  gift,  the  girl's  heart  was  touched, 
for  he  was  a  fine  gold  color  like  a  full  moon,  and  his 
high  heart  gave  him  a  proud  way  of  walking.  So 
when  she  had  said, '  Only  possibly  you  love  me,  but 
that  I  may  know  what  manner  of  husband  I  am 
getting,  I  pray  you  hunt  for  me  one  day,'  and 
when  they  had  bidden  each  other  'wait  happily 
until  the  morning,'  she  went  out  as  a  puma  and 
searched  the  hills  for  game  that  she  might  drive 
toward  the  young  man,  instead  of  away  from  him. 
But  because  she  could  not  take  her  eyes  off  of  him, 
she  was  not  so  careful  as  she  should  be  not  to  let 
him  see  her.  Then  she  went  home  and  put  on  all 
her  best  clothes,  the  white  buckskins,  the  turquoises 
and  silver  bracelets,  and  waited.  At  evening,  Ho- 
tai,  the  Two-Hearted,  came  with  a  fine  buck  on  his 
shoulders,  and  a  stiff  face.  Without  a  word  he  gave 
the  buck  to  the  Priest's  wife  and  turned  away. 
'Hai,9  said  the  mother,  'when  a  young  man  wins  a 
girl  he  is  permitted  to  say  a  few  words  to  her!'  — 
for  she  was  pleased  to  think  that  her  daughter  had 
got  a  husband  at  last. 

'"I  did  not  kill  the  buck  by  myself,'  said  Ho-tai; 
and  he  went  off  to  find  the  Chief  Priest  and  tell  him 
that  he  could  not  marry  his  daughter.  Flower-of- 
the-Maguey,  who  was  in  her  room  all  this  time 
peeking  through  the  curtain,  took  a  water  jar  and 
went  down  to  the  spring  where  Ho-tai  could  not 
help  but  pass  her  on  his  way  back  to  his  own  village. 

253 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

"'I  did  not  bring  back  your  bundle,'  she  said 
when  she  saw  him;  'what  is  a  bundle  to  a  woman 
when  she  has  found  a  man?' 

"Then  his  two  hearts  were  sore  in  him,  for  she 
was  lovely  past  all  naming.  '  I  do  not  take  what  I 
cannot  win  by  my  own  labor,'  said  he;  'there  was 
a  puma  drove  up  the  game  for  me.' 

"'Who  knows,'  said  she,  'but  Those  Above  sent 
it  to  try  if  you  were  honest  or  a  braggart?'  After 
which  he  began  to  feel  differently.  And  in  due 
course  they  were  married,  and  Ho-tai  came  to  live 
in  the  house  of  the  Chief  Priest  at  Hawikuh,  for  her 
parents  could  not  think  of  parting  with  her, 

"They  were  very  happy,"  said  the  Condor,  "for 
she  was  wisely  slow  as  well  as  beautiful,  and  she 
eased  him  of  the  struggle  of  his  two  hearts,  one 
against  the  other,  and  rested  in  her  life  as  a  woman." 

"  Does  that  mean  she  was  n't  a  puma  any  more?  " 
asked  Dorcas  Jane. 

The  Condor  nodded,  turning  over  the  Zuni  words 
in  his  mind  for  just  the  right  phrase.  "Under 
standing  of  all  her  former  states  came  to  her  with 
the  years.  There  was  nothing  she  dreaded  so  much 
as  being  forced  out  of  this  life  into  the  dust  and  whirl 
of  Becoming.  That  is  one  reason  why  she  feared  and 
distrusted  the  Spanish  missionaries  when  they  came, 
as  they  did  about  that  time. 

"One  of  her  husband's  two  hearts  pulled  very 
strongly  toward  the  religion  of  the  Spanish  Padres. 

254 


THE  SECRET  OF  THE  HOLY  PLACES 

He  was  of  the  first  that  were  baptized  by  Father 
Letrado,  and  served  the  altar.  He  was  also  the  first 
of  those  upon  whose  mind  the  Padre  began  to  work 
to  persuade  him  that  in  taking  the  new  religion  he 
must  wholly  give  up  the  old. 

"At  the  end  of  that  trail,  a  day's  journey,"  said 
the  Condor,  indicating  the  narrow  foot-tread  in 
the  sand,  which  showed  from  tree  to  tree  of  the 
dark  junipers,  and  seemed  to  turn  and  disappear 
at  every  one,  "lies  the  valley  of  Shiwina,  which  is 
Zuni. 

"  It  is  a  narrow  valley,  watered  by  a  muddy  river. 
Red  walls  of  mesas  shut  it  in  above  the  dark  wood. 
To  the  north  lies  Thunder  Mountain,  wall-sided 
and  menacing.  Dust  devils  rise  up  from  the  plains 
and  veil  the  crags.  In  the  winter  there  are  snows. 
In  the  summer  great  clouds  gather  over  Shiwina 
and  grow  dark  with  rain.  White  corn  tassels  are 
waving,  blue  butterfly  maidens  flit  among  the 
blossoming  beans. 

"Day  and  night  at  midsummer,  hardly  the 
priests  have  their  rattles  out  of  their  hands.  You 
hear  them  calling  from  the  house-tops,  and  the 
beat  of  bare  feet  on  the  dancing  places.  But  the 
summer  after  Father  Letrado  built  his  chapel  of  the 
Immaculate  Virgin  at  Halona  and  the  chapel  and 
parish  house  of  the  Immaculate  Conception  at 
Hawikuh,  he  set  his  face  against  the  Rain  Dance, 
and  especially  against  the  Priests  of  the  Rain. 

255 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

Witchcraft  and  sorcery  he  called  it,  and  in  Zuni  to 
be  accused  of  witchcraft  is  death. 

"The  people  did  not  know  what  to  do.  They 
prayed  secretly  where  they  could.  The  Priests  of 
the  Rain  went  on  with  their  preparations,  and  the 
soldiers  of  Father  Letrado  —  for  he  had  a  small  de 
tachment  with  him  —  broke  up  the  dance  and  pro 
faned  the  sacred  places.  Those  were  hard  days  for 
Ho-tai  the  Two-Hearted.  The  gods  of  the  strangers 
were  strong  gods,  he  said,  let  the  people  wait  and 
see  what  they  could  do.  The  white  men  had  strong 
Medicine  in  their  guns  and  their  iron  shirts  and 
their  long-tailed,  smoke-breathing  beasts.  They 
did  not  work  as  other  gods.  Even  if  there  was  no 
rain,  the  white  gods  might  have  another  way  to 
save  the  people. 

"These  were  the  things  Father  Letrado  taught 
him  to  say,  and  the  daughter  of  the  Chief  Priest  of 
the  Bow  feared  that  his  heart  would  be  quite  pulled 
away  from  the  people  of  Zufii.  Then  she  went  to 
her  father  the  Chief  Priest,  who  was  also  the  keeper 
of  the  secret  of  the  Holy  Places  of  the  Sun,  and 
neared  the  dividing  of  the  ways  of  life. 

"'Let  Ho-tai  be  chosen  Keeper  in  your  place,' 
she  said, '  so  all  shall  be  bound  together,  the  Medi 
cine  of  the  white  man  and  the  brown.' 

"'Be  it  well,'  said  the  Priest  .of  the  Bow,  for  he 
was  old,  and  had  respect  for  his  daughter's  wisdom. 
Feeling  his  feet  go  from  him  toward  the  Spirit 

256 


THE  SECRET  OF  THE  HOLY  PLACES 

Road,  he  called  together  the  Priests  of  the  Bow,  and 
announced  to  them  that  Ho-tai  would  be  Keeper  in 
his  stead. 

"  Though  Two-Hearted  was  young  for  the  honor, 
they  did  not  question  it,  for,  like  his  wife,  they  were 
jealous  of  the  part  of  him  that  was  white  —  which, 
for  her,  there  was  no  becoming  —  and  they  thought 
of  this  as  a  binding  together.  They  were  not  alto 
gether  sure  yet  that  the  Spaniards  were  not  gods, 
or  at  the  least  Surpassing  Beings. 

"  But  as  the  rain  did  not  come  and  the  winter  set 
in  cold  with  a  shortage  of  corn,  more  and  more  they 
neglected  the  bowings  and  the  reverences  and  the 
service  of  the  mass.  Nights  Father  Letrado  would 
hear  the  muffled  beat  of  the  drums  in  the  kivas 
where  the  old  religion  was  being  observed,  and  be 
cause  it  was  the  only  heart  open  to  him,  he  twisted 
the  heart  of  Ho-tai  to  see  if  there  was  not  some 
secret  evil,  some  seed  of  witchcraft  at  the  bottom 
of  it  which  he  could  pluck  out." 

"That  was  great  foolishness,"  said  the  Road 
Runner;  "no  white  man  yet  ever  got  to  the  bottom 
of  the  heart  of  an  Indian." 

"True,"  said  the  Condor,  "but  Ho-tai  was  half 
white,  and  the  white  part  of  him  answered  to  the 
Padre's  hand.  He  was  very  miserable,  and  in  fact, 
nobody  was  very  happy  in  those  days  in  Hawikuh. 
Father  Martin  who  passed  there  in  the  moon  of  the 
Sun  Returning,  on  his  way  to  establish  a  mission 

257 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

among  the  People  of  the  Coarse  Hanging  Hair, 
reported  to  his  superior  that  Father  Letrado  was 
ripe  for  martyrdom. 

"  It  came  the  following  Sunday,  when  only  Ho-tai 
and  a  few  old  women  came  to  mass.  Sick  at  the 
sound  of  his  own  voice  echoing  in  the  empty  chapel, 
the  Padre  went  out  to  the  plaza  of  the  town  to 
scold  the  people  into  services.  He  was  met  by  the 
Priests  of  the  Rain  with  their  bows.  Being  neither 
a  coward  nor  a  fool,  he  saw  what  was  before  him. 
Kneeling,  he  clasped  his  arms,  still  holding  the 
crucifix  across  his  bosom,  and  they  transfixed  him 
with  their  arrows. 

"  They  went  into  the  church  after  that  and  broke 
up  the  altar,  and  burned  the  chapel.  A  party  of 
bowmen  followed  the  trail  of  Father  Martin,  com 
ing  up  with  him  after  five  days.  That  night  with 
the  help  of  some  of  his  own  converts,  they  fell  upon 
and  killed  him.  There  was  a  half-breed  among 
them,  both  whose  hearts  were  black.  He  cut  off  the 
good  Padre's  hand  and  scalped  him." 

"  Oh,"  said  Oliver,  "  I  think  he  ought  not  to  have 
done  that!" 

The  Condor  was  thoughtful. 

"  The  hand,  no.  It  had  been  stretched  forth  only 
in  kindness.  But  I  think  white  men  do  not  under 
stand  about  scalping.  I  have  heard  them  talk  some 
times,  and  I  know  they  do  not  understand.  The 
scalp  was  taken  in  order  that  they  might  have  the 

258 


THE  SECRET  OF  THE  HOLY  PLACES 

scalp  dance.  The  dance  is  to  pacify  the  spirit  of 
the  slain.  It  adopts  and  initiates  him  into  the  tribe 
of  the  dead,  and  makes  him  one  with  them,  so  that 
he  will  not  return  as  a  spirit  and  work  harm  on  his 
slayers.  Also  it  is  a  notice  to  the  gods  of  the  enemy 
that  theirs  is  the  stronger  god,  and  to  beware.  The 
scalp  dance  is  a  protection  to  the  tribe  of  the  slayer ; 
to  omit  one  of  its  observances  is  to  put  the  tribe  in 
peril  of  the  dead.  Thus  I  have  heard;  thus  the  Old 
Ones  have  said.  Even  Two-Hearted,  though  he 
was  sad  for  the  killing,  danced  for  the  scalp  of 
Father  Martin. 

'  *  Immediately  it  was  all  over,  the  Hawikuhkwe  be 
gan  to  be  afraid.  They  gathered  up  their  goods  and 
fled  to  K'iakime,  the  Place  of  the  Eagles,  on  Thunder 
Mountain,  where  they  had  a  stronghold.  There  were 
Iron  Shirts  at  Santa  Fe  and  whole  cities  of  them 
in  the  direction  of  the  Salt  Containing  Waters. 
Who  knew  what  vengeance  they  might  take  for 
the  killing  of  the  Padres?  The  Hawikuhkwe  in 
trenched  themselves,  and  for  nearly  two  years 
they  waited  and  practiced  their  own  religion  in 
their  own  way. 

"Only  two  of  them  were  unhappy.  These  were 
Ho-tai  of  the  two  hearts,  and  his  wife,  who  had  been 
called  Flower-of-the-Maguey.  But  her  unhappiness 
was  not  because  the  Padres  had  been  killed.  She 
had  had  her  hand  in  that  business,  though  only 
among  the  women,  dropping  a  word  here  and  there 

259 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

quietly,  as  one  drops  a  stone  into  a  deep  well.  She 
was  unhappy  because  she  saw  that  the  dead  hand 
of  Father  Letrado  was  still  heavy  on  her  husband's 
heart. 

"Not  that  Ho-tai  feared  what  the  soldiers  from 
Santa  Fe  might  do  to  the  slayer,  but  what  the  god 
of  the  Padre  might  do  to  the  whole  people.  For 
Padre  Letrado  had  taught  him  to  read  in  the  Sacred 
Books,  and  he  knew  that  whole  cities  were  burned 
with  fire  for  their  sins.  He  saw  doom  hanging  over 
K'iakime,  and  his  wife  could  not  comfort  him. 
After  awhile  it  came  into  his  mind  that  it  was  his 
own  sin  for  which  the  people  would  be  punished,  for 
the  one  thing  he  had  kept  from  the  Padre  was  the 
secret  of  the  gold. 

"It  is  true,"  said  the  Condor,  "that  after  the 
Indians  had  forgotten  them,  white  men  rediscov 
ered  many  of  their  sacred  places,  and  many  others 
that  were  not  known  even  to  the  Zunis.  But  there 
is  one  place  on  Thunder  Mountain  still  where  gold 
lies  in  the  ground  in  lumps  like  pine  nuts.  If  Father 
Letrado  could  have  found  it,  he  would  have  ham 
mered  it  into  cups  for  his  altar,  and  immediately 
the  land  would  have  been  overrun  with  the  Span 
iards.  And  the  more  Ho-tai  thought  of  it,  the  more 
convinced  he  was  that  he  should  have  told  him. 

"Toward  the  end  of  two  years  when  it  began  to 
be  rumored  that  soldiers  and  new  Padres  were  com 
ing  to  K'iakime  to  deal  with  the  killing  of  Father 

260 


THE  SECRET  OF  THE  HOLY  PLACES 

Letrado,  Ho-tai  began  to  sleep  more  quietly  at  night. 
Then  his  wife  knew  that  he  had  made  up  his  mind 
to  tell,  if  it  seemed  necessary  to  reconcile  the  Span 
iards  to  his  people,  and  it  was  a  knife  in  her  heart. 

"It  was  her  husband's  honor,  and  the  honor  of 
her  father,  Chief  Priest  of  the  Bow;  and  besides,  she 
knew  very  well  that  if  Ho-tai  told,  the  Priests  of 
the  Bow  would  kill  him.  She  said  to  herself  that 
her  husband  was  sick  with  the  enchantments  of 
the  Padres,  and  she  must  do  what  she  could  for  him. 
She  gave  him  seeds  of  forgetfulness." 

"Was  that  a  secret  too?"  asked  Dorcas,  for  the 
Condor  seemed  not  to  remember  that  the  children 
were  new  to  that  country. 

"  It  was  peyote.  Many  know  of  it  now,  but  in  the 
days  of  Our  Ancients  it  was  known  only  to  a  few 
Medicine  men  and  women.  It  is  a  seed  that  when 
eaten  wipes  out  the  past  from  a  man's  mind  and 
gives  him  visions.  In  time  its  influence  will  wear 
away,  and  it  must  be  eaten  anew,  but  if  eaten  too 
often  it  steals  a  man's  courage  and  his  strength  as 
well  as  his  memory. 

"When  she  had  given  her  husband  a  little  in  his 
food,  Flower-of-the-Maguey  found  that  he  was  like 
a  child  in  her  hands. 

"'Sleep,'  she  would  say,  'and  dream  thus,  and 
so,'  and  that  is  the  way  it  would  be  with  him.  She 
wished  him  to  forget  both  the  secret  of  the  gold  in 
the  ground  and  the  fear  of  the  Padres. 

261 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

"From  the  time  that  she  heard  that  the  Span 
iards  were  on  their  way  to  K'iakime,  she  fed  him  a 
little  peyote  every  day.  To  the  others  it  seemed 
that  his  mind  walked  with  Those  Above,  and  they 
were  respectful  of  him.  That  is  how  Zunis  think 
of  any  kind  of  madness.  They  were  not  sure  that 
the  madness  had  not  been  sent  for  just  this  occa 
sion  when  they  had  need  of  the  gods,  and  so,  as 
it  seemed  to  them,  it  proved. 

"The  Spaniards  asked  for  parley,  and  the  Ca 
ciques  permitted  the  Padres  to  come  up  into  the 
council  chambers,  for  they  knew  that  the  long 
gowns  covered  no  weapons.  The  Spaniards  had 
learned  wisdom,  perhaps,  and  perhaps  they  thought 
Father  Letrado  somewhat  to  blame.  They  asked 
nothing  but  permission  to  reestablish  their  mis 
sions,  and  to  have  the  man  who  had  scalped  Father 
Martin  handed  over  to  them  for  Spanish  justice. 

"They  sat  around  the  wall  of  the  kiva,  with  Ho- 
tai  in  his  place,  hearing  and  seeing  very  little.  But 
the  parley  was  long,  and,  little  by  little,  the  vision 
of  his  own  gods  which  the  peyote  had  given  him 
began  to  wear  away.  One  of  the  Padres  rose  in  his 
place  and  began  a  long  speech  about  the  sin  of 
killing,  and  especially  of  killing  priests.  He  quoted 
his  Sacred  Books  and  talked  of  the  sin  in  their  hearts, 
and,  little  by  little,  the  talk  laid  hold  on  the  wan 
dering  mind  of  Ho-tai.  '  Thus,  in  this  killing,  has  the 
secret  evil  of  your  hearts  come  forth,'  said  the 


THE  SECRET  OF  THE  HOLY  PLACES 

Padre,  and  'True,  He  speaks  true,'  said  Ho-tai, 
upon  which  the  Priests  of  the  Hawikuhkwe  were 
astonished.  They  thought  their  gods  spoke  through 
his  madness. 

"Then  the  Padre  began  to  exhort  them  to  give 
up  this  evil  man  in  their  midst  and  rid  themselves  of 
the  consequences  of  sin,  which  he  assured  them 
were  most  certain  and  as  terrible  as  they  were  sure. 
Then  the  white  heart  of  Ho-tai  remembered  his 
own  anguish,  and  spoke  thickly,  as  a  man  drunk 
with  peyote  speaks. 

"  'He  must  be  given  up,'  he  said.  It  seemed  to 
them  that  his  voice  came  from  the  under  world. 

"But  there  was  a  great  difficulty.  The  half- 
breed  who  had  done  the  scalping  had,  at  the  first 
rumor  of  the  soldiers  coming,  taken  himself  away. 
If  the  Hawikuhkwe  said  this  to  the  Spaniards,  they 
knew  very  well  they  would  not  be  believed.  But 
the  mind  of  Ho-tai  had  begun  to  come  back  to  him, 
feebly  as  from  a  far  journey. 

"He  remembered  that  he  had  done  something 
displeasing  to  the  Padre,  though  he  did  not  remem 
ber  what,  and  on  account  of  it  there  was  doom  over 
the  valley  of  the  Shiwina.  He  rose  staggering  in 
his  place. 

" '  Evil  has  been  done,  and  the  evil  man  must  be 
cast  out,'  he  said,  and  for  the  first  time  the  Padres 
noticed  that  he  was  half  white.  Not  one  of  them 
had  ever  seen  the  man  who  scalped  Father  Letrado, 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

but  it  was  known  that  his  father  had  been  a  soldier. 
This  man  was  altogether  such  a  one  as  they  ex 
pected.  His  cheeks  were  drawn,  his  hair  hung 
matted  over  his  reddened  eyes,  as  a  man's  might, 
tormented  of  the  spirit.  '  I  am  that  man,'  said  Ho- 
tai  of  the  Two  Hearts,  and  the  Caciques  put  their 
hands  over  their  mouths  with  astonishment." 

"But  they  never,"  cried  Oliver,  —  "they  never 
let  him  be  taken?" 

"A  life  for  a  life,"  said  the  Condor,  "that  is  the 
law.  It  was  necessary  that  the  Spaniards  be  paci 
fied,  and  the  slayer  could  not  be  found.  Besides, 
the  people  of  Hawikuh  thought  Ho-tai's  offer  to  go 
in  his  place  was  from  the  gods.  It  agrees  with  all 
religions  that  a  man  may  lay  down  his  life  for  his 
people." 

"Could  n't  his  wife  do  anything?" 

"What  could  she?  He  went  of  his  own  will  and 
by  consent  of  the  Caciques.  But  she  tried  what  she 
could.  She  could  give  him  peyote  enough  so  that  he 
should  remember  nothing  and  feel  nothing  of  what 
the  Spaniards  should  do  to  him.  But  to  do  that 
she  had  to  make  friends  with  one  of  the  soldiers. 
She  chose  one  Lujan,  who  had  written  his  name 
on  the  Rock  on  the  way  to  K'iakime.  By  him 
she  sent  a  cake  to  Ho-tai,  and  promised  to  meet 
Lujan  when  she  could  slip  away  from  the  village 
unnoticed. 

"Between  here  and  Acoma,"  said  the  Condor, 

264 


THE  SECRET  OF  THE  HOLY  PLACES 

"  is  a  short  cut  which  may  be  traveled  on  foot,  but 
not  on  horseback.  Returning  with  Ho-tai,  mana- 
acled  and  fast  between  two  soldiers,  the  Spaniards 
meant  to  take  that  trail,  and  it  was  there  the  wife 
of  Ho-tai  promised  to  meet  Lujan  at  the  end  of  the 
second  day's  travel. 

"She  came  in  the  twilight,  hurrying  as  a  puma, 
for  her  woman's  heart  was  too  sore  to  endure  her 
woman's  body.  Lujan  had  walked  apart  from  the 
camp  to  wait  for  her;  smiling,  he  waited.  She  was 
still  very  beautiful,  and  he  thought  she  was  in  love 
with  him.  Therefore,  when  he  saw  the  long,  hurry 
ing  stride  of  a  puma  in  the  trail,  he  thought  it  a  pity 
so  beautiful  a  woman  should  be  frightened.  The 
arrow  that  he  sped  from  his  cross-bow  struck  in  the 
yellow  flanks.  'Well  shot,'  said  Lujan  cheerfully, 
but  his  voice  was  drowned  by  a  scream  that  was 
strangely  like  a  woman's.  He  remembered  it  after 
ward  in  telling  of  the  extraordinary  thing  that  had 
happened  to  him,  for  when  he  went  to  look,  where 
the  great  beast  had  leaped  in  air  and  fallen,  there 
was  nothing  to  be  found  there.  Nothing. 

"  If  she  had  been  in  her  form  as  a  woman  when 
he  shot  her,"  said  the  Condor,  "that  is  what  he 
would  have  found.  But  she  was  a  Passing  Being, 
not  taking  form  from  without  as  we  do,  of  the  out 
ward  touchings  of  things,  and  her  shape  of  a  puma 
was  as  mist  which  vanishes  in  death  as  mist  does 
in  the  sun.  Thus  shortens  my  story." 

265 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

"Come,"  said  the  Road-Runner,  understanding 
that  there  would  be  no  more  to  the  Telling.  "The 
Seven  Persons  are  out,  and  the  trail  is  darkling." 

The  children  looked  up  and  saw  the  constellation 
which  they  knew  as  the  Dipper,  shining  in  a  deep 
blue  heaven.  The  glow  was  gone  from  the  high 
cliffs  of  El  Morro,  and  the  junipers  seemed  to  draw 
secretly  together.  Without  a  word  they  took  hands 
and  began  to  run  along  the  trail  after  the  Road 
Runner. 


XV 

HOW  THE  MEDICINE  OF  THE  ARROWS  WAS  BROKEN  AT 

REPUBLICAN  RIVER;  TOLD  BY  THE  CHIEF  OFFICER 

OF  THE  DOG  SOLDIERS 

THIS  is  the  story  the  Dog  Soldier  told  Oliver  one 
evening  in  April,  just  after  school  let  out,  while  the 
sun  was  still  warm  and  bright  on  the  young  grass, 
and  yet  one  somehow  did  not  care  about  playing. 
Oliver  had  slipped  into  the  Indian  room  by  the 
west  entrance  to  look  at  the  Dog  Dancers,  for  the 
teacher  had  just  told  them  that  our  country  was 
to  join  the  big  war  which  had  been  going  on  so  long 
on  the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic,  and  the  boy  was 
feeling  rather  excited  about  it,  and  yet  solemn. 

The  teacher  had  told  them  about  the  brave 
Frenchmen  who  had  stood  up  in  the  way  of  the 
enemy  saying,  "They  shall  not  pass,"  and  they 

267 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

had  n't.  It  made  Oliver  think  of  what  he  had  read 
on  the  Dog  Dancer's  card  —  how  in  a  desperate 
fight  the  officer  would  stick  an  arrow  or  a  lance 
through  his  long  scarf,  where  it  trailed  upon  the 
ground,  pinning  himself  to  the  earth  until  he  was 
dead  or  his  side  had  won  the  victory. 

Oliver  thought  that  that  was  exactly  the  sort  of 
thing  that  he  would  do  himself  if  he  were  a  soldier, 
and  when  he  read  the  card  over  again,  he  sat  on  a 
bench  with  his  back  to  the  light  looking  at  the  Dog 
Dancers,  and  feeling  very  friendly  toward  them. 
It  had  just  occurred  to  him  that  they,  too,  were 
Americans,  and  he  liked  to  think  of  them  as  brave 
and  first-class  fighters. 

From  where  he  sat  he  could  see  quite  to  the  end 
of  the  east  corridor  which  was  all  of  a  quarter  of 
a  mile  away.  Nobody  moved  in  it  but  a  solitary 
guard,  looking  small  and  flat  like  a  toy  man  at  that 
distance,  and  the  low  sun  made  black  and  yellow 
bars  across  the  floor.  In  a  moment  more,  while 
Oliver  was  wondering  where  that  woodsy,  smoky 
smell  came  from,  they  were  all  around  him,  all  the 
Dog  Warriors,  of  the  four  degrees,  with  their  skin- 
covered  lances  curved  like  the  beak  of  the  Thunder 
Bird,  and  the  rattles  of  dew-claws  that  clashed 
pleasantly  together.  Some  of  them  were  painted 
red  all  over,  and  some  wore  tall  headdresses  of 
eagle  feathers,  and  every  officer  had  his  trailing 
scarf  of  buckskin  worked  in  patterns  of  the  Sacred 

268 


THE  MEDICINE  OF  THE  ARROWS 

Four.  Around  every  neck  was  the  whistle  made  of 
the  wing-bone  of  a  turkey,  and  every  man's  fore 
head  glistened  with  the  sweat  of  his  dancing.  The 
smell  that  Oliver  had  noticed  was  the  smoke  of 
their  fire  and  the  spring  scent  of  the  young  sage. 
It  grew  knee-high,  pale  green  along  the  level 
tops,  stretching  away  west  to  the  Backbone-of-the- 
World,  whose  snowy  tops  seemed  to  float  upon  the 
evening  air.  Off  to  the  right  there  was  a  river  dark 
with  cottonwoods  and  willows. 

"But  where  are  we?"  Oliver  wished  to  know, 
seeing  them  all  pause  in  their  dancing  to  notice  him 
in  a  friendly  fashion. 

"Cheyenne  Country,"  said  one  of  the  oldest 
Indians.  "Over  there"  —  he  pointed  to  a  white 
thread  that  dipped  and  sidled  along  the  easy  roll  of 
the  hills  —  "is  the  Taos  Trail.  It  joins  the  Santa 
Fe  at  the  Rio  Grande  and  goes  north  to  the  Big 
Muddy.  It  crosses  all  the  east-flowing  rivers  near 
their  source  and  skirts  the  Pawnee  Country." 

"  And  who  are  you  —  Cheyennes  or  Arapahoes?  " 
Oliver  could  not  be  sure,  though  their  faces  and 
their  costumes  were  familiar. 

"Cheyennes  and  Arapahoes,"  said  the  oldest 
Dog  Dancer,  easing  himself  down  to  the  buffalo 
robe  which  one  of  the  rank  and  file  of  the  warriors 
had  spread  for  him.  "Camp-mates  and  allies, 
though  we  do  not  call  ourselves  Cheyennes,  you 
know.  That  is  a  Sioux  name  for  us,  —  Red  Words, 

269 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

it  means;  —  what  you  call  foreign-speaking,  for 
the  Sioux  cannot  speak  any  language  but  their 
own.  We  call  ourselves  Tsis-tsis-tas,  Our  Folk." 
He  reached  back  for  his  pipe  which  a  young  man 
brought  him  and  loosened  his  tobacco  pouch  from 
his  belt,  smiling  across  at  Oliver,  "Have  you 
earned  your  smoke,  my  son?" 

"I'm  not  allowed,"  said  Oliver,  eyeing  the  great 
pipe  which  he  was  certain  he  had  seen  a  few  mo 
ments  before  in  the  Museum  case. 

"Good,  good,"  said  the  old  Cheyenne;  "a  youth 
should  not  smoke  until  he  has  gathered  the  bark  of 
the  oak." 

Oliver  looked  puzzled  and  the  Dog  Warrior 
smiled  broadly,  for  gathering  oak  bark  is  a  poetic 
Indian  way  of  speaking  of  a  young  warrior's  first 
scalping. 

"He  means  you  must  not  smoke  until  you  have 
done  something  to  prove  you  are  a  man,"  explained 
one  of  the  Arapahoes,  who  was  painted  bright  red 
all  over  and  wore  a  fringe  of  scalps  under  his  cere 
monial  belt.  Pipes  came  out  all  around  the  circle 
and  some  one  threw  a  handful  of  sweet-grass  on 
the  fire. 

"What  I  should  like  to  know,"  said  Oliver,  "is 
why  you  are  called  Dog  Dancer?" 

The  painted  man  shook  his  head. 

"All  I  know  is  that  we  are  picked  men,  ripe  with 
battles,  and  the  Dog  is  our  totem.  So  it  has  been 

270 


THE  MEDICINE  OF  THE  ARROWS 

since  the  Fathers'  Fathers."  He  blew  two  puffs 
from  his  pipe  straight  up,  murmuring,  "0  God, 
remember  us  on  earth,"  after  the  fashion  of  cere 
monial  smoking. 

"God  and  us,"  said  the  Cheyenne,  pointing  up 
with  his  pipe-stem;  and  then  to  Oliver,  "The  Tsis- 
tsis-tas  were  saved  by  a  dog  once  in  the  country  of 
the  Ho-He.  That  is  Assiniboine,"  he  explained, 
following  it  with  a  strong  grunt  of  disgust  which 
ran  all  around  the  circle  as  the  Dog  Chief  struck  out 
with  his  foot  and  started  a  little  spurt  of  dust  with 
his  toe,  throwing  dirt  on  the  name  of  his  enemy. 
"They  are  called  Assiniboine,  stone  cookers,  be 
cause  they  cook  in  holes  in  the  ground  with  hot 
stones,  but  to  us  they  were  the  Ho-He.  The  first 
time  we  met  we  fought  them.  That  was  in  the  old 
time,  before  we  had  guns  or  bows  either,  but  clubs 
and  pointed  sticks.  That  was  by  the  Lake  of  the 
Woods  where  we  first  met  them." 

"Lake  of  the  Woods,"  said  Oliver;  "that's  far 
ther  north  than  the  headwater  of  the  Mississippi." 

"We  came  from  farther  and  from  older  time," 
said  the  Dog  Soldier.  "We  thought  the  guns  were 
magic  at  first  and  fell  upon  our  faces.  Nevertheless, 
we  fought  the  Ho-He  and  took  their  guns  away 
from  them." 

"So,"  said  the  officer  of  the  Yellow  Rope,  as  the 
long  buckskin  badge  of  rank  was  called.  "We 
fought  with  Blackfoot  and  Sioux.  We  fought  with 

271 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

Comanches  and  Crows,  and  expelled  them  from 
the  Land.  With  Kiowas  we  fought;  we  crossed  the 
Big  Muddy  and  long  and  bitter  wars  we  had  with 
Shoshones  and  Pawnees.  Later  we  fought  the  Utes. 
We  are  the  Fighting  Cheyennes. 

"That  is  how  it  is  when  a  peaceful  people  are 
turned  fighters.  For  we  are  peaceful.  We  came 
from  the  East,  for  one  of  our  wise  men  had  foretold 
that  one  day  we  should  meet  White  Men  and  be 
conquered  by  them.  Therefore,  we  came  away, 
seeking  peace,  and  we  did  not  know  what  to  do 
when  the  Ho-He  fell  upon  us.  At  last  we  said, 
'  Evidently  it  is  the  fashion  of  this  country  to  fight. 
Now,  let  us  fight  everybody  we  meet,  so  we  shall 
become  great.'  That  is  what  has  happened.  Is  it 
not  so?" 

"It  is  so!"  said  the  Dog  Dancers.  "Hi-hi-yi," 
breaking  out  all  at  once  in  the  long-drawn  wolf  howl 
which  is  the  war-cry  of  the  Cheyennes.  Oliver 
would  have  been  frightened  by  it,  but  quite  as 
suddenly  they  returned  to  their  pipes,  and  he  saw 
the  old  Dog  Chief  looking  at  him  with  a  kindly 
twinkle. 

"You  were  going  to  tell  me  why  you  are  called 
Dog  Soldiers,"  Oliver  reminded  him. 

"Dog  is  a  good  name  among  us,"  said  the  old 
Cheyenne,  "but  it  is  forbidden  to  speak  of  the 
Mysteries.  Perhaps  when  you  have  been  admitted 
to  the  Kit  Foxes  and  have  seen  fighting  — " 

272 


THE  MEDICINE  OF  THE  ARROWS 

"We've  got  a  war  of  our  own,  now,"  said  Oliver 
hopefully. 

The  Indians  were  all  greatly  interested.  The 
painted  Arapahoe  blew  him  a  puff  from  his  pipe. 
"  Send  you  good  enemies,"  he  said,  trailing  the  smoke 
about  in  whatever  direction  enemies  might  come 
from.  "  And  a^good  fight ! "  said  the  Yellow  Rope  Of 
ficer  ;  "for  men  grow  soft  where  there  is  no  fighting." 

"And  in  all  cases,"  said  the  Dog  Chief,  "respect 
the  Mysteries.  Otherwise,  though  you  come  safely 
through  yourself,  you  may  bring  evil  on  the  Tribe. 
...  I  remember  a  Telling  .  .  .  No,"  he  said,  follow 
ing  the  little  pause  that  always  precedes  a  story; 
"since  you  are  truly  at  war  I  will  tell  a  true  tale.  A 
tale  of  my  own  youth  and  the  failure  that  came  on 
Our  Folks  because  certain  of  our  young  men  forgot 
that  they  were  fighting  for  the  Tribe  and  thought 
only  of  themselves  and  their  own  glory." 

He  stuffed  his  pipe  again  with  fine  tobacco  and 
bark  of  red  willow  and  began. 

"Of  one  mystery  of  the  Cheyennes  every  man 
may  speak  a  little  —  of  the  Mystery  of  the  Sacred 
Medicine  Arrows.  Four  arrows  there  are  with 
stone  heads  painted  in  the  four  colors,  four  feath 
ered  with  eagle  plumes.  They  give  power  to  men 
and  victory  in  battle.  It  is  a  man  mystery;  no 
woman  may  so  much  as  look  at  it.  When  we  go  out 
as  a  Tribe  to  war,  the  Arrows  go  with  us  tied  to  the 
lance  of  the  Arrow-Keeper. 

273 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

"  The  Medicine  of  the  Arrows  depended  on  the 
Mysteries  which  are  made  in  the  camp  before  the 
Arrows  go  out.  But  if  any  one  goes  out  from  the 
camp  toward  the  enemy  before  the  Mysteries  are 
completed,  the  protection  of  the  Arrows  is  de 
stroyed.  Thus  it  happened  when  the  Potawatami 
helped  the  Kitkahhahki,  and  the  Cheyennes  were 
defeated.  This  was  my  doing,  mine  and  Red  Morn 
ing  and  a  boy  of  the  Suh-tai  who  had  nobody  be 
longing  to  him. 

"We  three  were  like  brothers,  but  I  was  the  elder 
and  leader.  I  waited  on  War  Bonnet  when  he  went 
to  the  hunt,  and  learned  war-craft  from  him.  That 
was  how  it  was  with  us  as  we  grew  up,  —  we  at 
tached  ourselves  to  some  warrior  we  admired;  we 
brought  back  his  arrows  and  rounded  up  his  ponies 
for  him,  or  washed  off  the  Medicine  paint  after 
battle,  or  carried  his  pipe. 

"  War  Bonnet  I  loved  for  the  risks  he  would 
take.  Red  Morning  followed  Mad  Wolf,  who  was 
the  best  of  the  scouts;  and  where  we  two  went 
the  Suh-tai  was  not  missing.  This  was  long  after 
we  had  learned  all  the  tricks  of  the  Ho-He  by 
fighting  them,  after  the  Iron  Shirts  brought  the 
horse  to  us,  and  we  had  crossed  the  Big  Muddy 
into  this  country. 

"We  were  at  war  with  the  Pawnees  that  year. 
Not,"  said  the  Dog  Chief  with  a  grin,  "that  we 
were  ever  at  peace  with  them,  but  the  year  before 

274 


THE  MEDICINE  OF  THE  ARROWS 

they  had  killed  our  man  Alights-on-the-  Cloud  and 
taken  our  iron  shirt." 

"Had  the  Cheyennes  iron  shirts?"  Oliver  was 
astonished. 

"Alights-on-the-Cloud  had  one.  When  he  rode 
up  and  down  in  front  of  the  enemy  with  it  under 
his  blanket,  they  thought  it  great  Medicine.  There 
were  others  I  have  heard  of;  they  came  into  the 
country  with  the  men  who  had  the  first  horses,  but 
this  was  ours.  It  was  all  fine  rings  of  iron  that  came 
down  to  the  knees  and  covered  the  arms  and  the 
head  so  that  his  long  hair  was  inside. 

"  It  was  the  summer  before  we  broke  the  Medicine 
of  the  Arrows  that  the  Tsis-tsis-tas  had  gone  out 
against  the  Pawnees.  Arapahoes,  Sioux,  Kiowas, 
and  Apaches,  they  went  out  with  us. 

"  Twice  in  the  year  the  Pawnees  hunted  the  buf 
faloes,  once  in  the  winter  when  the  robes  were  good 
and  the  buffaloes  fat,  and  once  in  the  summer  for 
food.  All  the  day  before  we  had  seen  a  great  dust 
rising  and  all  night  the  ground  shook  with  the  buf 
faloes  running.  There  was  a  mist  on  the  prairie,  and 
when  it  rose  our  scouts  found  themselves  almost  in 
the  midst  of  the  Pawnees  who  were  riding  about 
killing  buffaloes. 

"It  was  a  running  fight;  from  noon  till  level  sun 
they  fought,  and  in  the  middle  of  it,  Alights-on-the- 
Cloud  came  riding  on  a  roan  horse  along  the  enemy 
line,  flashing  a  saber.  As  he  rode  the  Pawnees  gave 

275 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

back,  for  the  iron  shirt  came  up  over  his  head  and 
their  arrows  did  him  no  harm.  So  he  rode  down  our 
own  line,  and  returning  charged  the  Pawnees,  but 
this  time  there  was  one  man  who  did  not  give  back. 
Carrying-the-Shield-in-Front  said  to  those  around 
him:  'Let  him  come  on,  and  do  you  move  away 
from  me  so  he  can  come  close.  If  he  possesses  great 
Medicine,  I  shall  not  be  able  to  kill  him;  but  if  he 
does  not  possess  it,  perhaps  I  shall  kill  him.' 

"So  the  others  fell  back,  and  when  Alights-on- 
the-Cloud  rode  near  enough  so  that  Carrying-the- 
Shield-in-Front  could  hear  the  clinking  of  the  iron 
rings,  he  loosed  his  arrow  and  struck  Alights-on- 
the-Cloud  in  the  eye. 

"  Our  men  charged  the  Pawnees,  trying  to  get  the 
body  back,  but  in  the  end  they  succeeded  in  cutting 
the  iron  shirt  into  little  pieces,  and  carrying  it  away. 
This  was  a  shame  to  us,  for  Alights-on-the-Cloud 
was  well  liked,  and  for  a  year  there  was  very  little 
talked  of  but  how  he  might  be  avenged. 

"  Early  the  next  spring  a  pipe  was  carried.  Little 
Robe  carried  it  along  the  Old  North  Trail  to  Crows 
and  the  Rurnt  Thigh  Sioux  and  the  Northern  Chey- 
ennes.  South  also  it  went  to  Apaches  and  Arapa- 
hoes.  And  when  the  grape  was  in  leaf  we  came  to 
gether  at  Republican  River  and  swore  that  we 
would  drive  out  the  Pawnees. 

"As  it  turned  out  both  Mad  Wolf  and  War  Ron- 
net  were  among  the  first  scouts  chosen  to  go  and 

276 


THE  MEDICINE  OF  THE  ARROWS 

locate  the  enemy,  and  though  we  had  no  business 
there,  we  three,  and  two  other  young  men  of  the 
Kiowas,  slipped  out  of  the  camp  and  followed. 
They  should  have  turned  us  back  as  soon  as  we 
were  discovered,  but  Mad  Wolf  was  good-natured, 
and  they  were  pleased  to  see  us  so  keen  for  war. 

"There  was  a  young  moon,  and  the  buffalo  bulls 
were  running  and  fighting  in  the  brush.  I  remember 
one  old  bull  with  long  streamers  of  grapevines  drag 
ging  from  his  horns  who  charged  and  scattered  us. 
We  killed  a  young  cow  for  meat,  and  along  the 
next  morning  we  saw  wolves  running  away  from  a 
freshly  killed  carcass.  So  we  knew  the  Pawnees 
were  out. 

"  Yellow  Bear,  an  Arapahoe  Dog  Soldier,  who  was 
one  of  the  scouts,  began  to  ride  about  in  circles  and 
sing  his  war-song,  saying  that  we  ought  not  to  go 
back  without  taking  some  scalps,  or  counting  coup, 
and  we  youngsters  agreed  with  him.  We  were  dis 
appointed  when  the  others  decided  to  go  back  at 
once  and  report.  I  remember  how  Mad  Wolf,  who 
was  the  scout  leader,  sent  the  others  all  in  to  notify 
the  camp,  and  how,  as  they  rode,  from  time  to  time 
they  howled  like  wolves,  then  stopped  and  turned 
their  heads  from  side  to  side. 

"There  was  a  great  ceremonial  march  when  we 
came  in,  the  Dog  Soldiers,  the  Crooked  Lances, 
the  Fox  Soldiers,  and  all  the  societies.  First  there 
were  two  men  —  the  most  brave  in  the  society  — 

277 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

leading,  and  then  all  the  others  in  single  file  and 
two  to  close.  The  women,  too  —  all  the  bright 
blankets  and  the  tall  war  bonnets  —  the  war-cries 
and  the  songs  and  the  drums  going  like  a  man's 
heart  in  battle. 

"Three  days,"  said  the  Dog  Chief,  "the  prepa 
ration  lasted.  Wolf  Face  and  Tall  Bull  were  sent 
off  to  keep  in  touch  with  the  enemy,  and  the 
women  and  children  dropped  behind  while  the  men 
unwrapped  their  Medicine  bundles  and  began  the 
Mysteries  of  the  Issiwun,  the  Buffalo  Hat,  and 
Mahuts,  the  Arrows.  It  was  a  long  ceremony,  and 
we  three,  Red  Morning,  the  Suh-tai  boy,  and  I,  were 
on  fire  with  the  love  of  fighting.  You  may  believe 
that  we  made  the  other  boys  treat  us  handsomely 
because  we  had  been  with  the  scouts,  but  after  a 
while  even  that  grew  tame  and  we  wandered  off 
toward  the  river.  Who  cared  what  three  half- 
grown  boys  did,  while  the  elders  were  busy  with 
their  Mysteries. 

"By  and  by,  though  we  knew  very  well  that  no 
one  should  move  toward  the  enemy  while  the  Ar 
rows  were  uncovered,  it  came  into  our  heads  what 
a  fine  thing  it  would  be  if  we  could  go  out  after  Wolf 
Face  and  Tall  Bull,  and  perhaps  count  coup  on  the 
Pawnees  before  our  men  came  up  with  them.  I  do 
iiot  think  we  thought  of  any  harm,  and  perhaps  we 
thought  the  Medicine  of  the  Arrows  was  only  for 
the  members  of  the  societies.  But  we  saw  after- 

278 


THE  MEDICINE  OF  THE  ARROWS 

ward  that  it  was  for  the  Tribe,  and  for  our  wrong 
the  Tribe  suffered. 

"For  a  while  we  followed  the  trail  of  Tall  Bull, 
toward  the  camp  of  Pawnees.  But  we  took  to  play 
ing  that  the  buffaloes  were  Pawnees  and  wore  out 
our  horses  charging  them.  Then  we  lost  the  trail, 
and  when  at  last  we  found  a  village  the  enemy  had 
moved  on  following  the  hunt,  leaving  only  bones 
and  ashes.  I  do  not  know  what  we  should  have 
done,"  said  the  Dog  Chief,  "if  we  had  come  up 
with  them:  three  boys  armed  with  hunting-knives 
and  bows,  and  a  lance  which  War  Bonnet  had 
thrown  away  because  it  was  too  light  for  him.  Red 
Morning  had  a  club  he  had  made,  with  a  flint  set 
into  the  side.  He  kept  throwing  it  up  and  catching 
it  as  he  rode,  making  a  song  about  it. 

"After  leaving  the  deserted  camp  of  the  Pawnees, 
we  rode  about  looking  for  a  trail,  thinking  we 
might  come  upon  some  small  party.  We  had  left 
our  own  camp  before  finding  out  what  Wolf  Face 
and  Tall  Bull  had  come  back  to  tell  them,  that  the 
enemy,  instead  of  being  the  whole  Nation  of  Paw 
nees  as  we  supposed,  was  really  only  the  tribe  of 
the  Kitkahhahki,  helped  out  by  a  band  of  the 
Potawatami.  The  day  before  our  men  attacked 
the  Kitkahhahki,  the  Potawatami  had  separated 
from  them  and  started  up  one  of  the  creeks,  while 
the  Pawnees  kept  on  up  the  river.  We  boys  stum 
bled  on  the  trail  of  the  Potawatami  and  followed  it. 

279 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

"Now  these  Potawatami,"  said  the  Dog  Chief, 
"had  had  guns  a  long  time,  and  better  guns  than 
ours.  But  being  boys  we  did  not  know  enough  to 
turn  back.  About  midday  we  came  to  level  country 
around  the  headwaters  of  the  creek,  and  there  were 
four  Potawatami  skinning  buffaloes.  They  had 
bunched  up  their  horses  and  tied  them  to  a  tree 
while  they  cut  up  the  kill.  Bed  Morning  said  for 
us  to  run  off  the  horses,  and  that  would  be  almost 
as  good  as  a  scalp-taking.  We  left  our  ponies  in  the 
ravine  and  wriggled  through  the  long  grass.  We 
had  cut  the  horses  loose  and  were  running  them, 
before  the  Potawatami  discovered  it.  One  of  them 
called  his  own  horse  and  it  broke  out  of  the  bunch 
and  ran  toward  him.  In  a  moment  he  was  on  his 
back,  so  we  three  each  jumped  on  a  horse  and  began 
to  whip  them  to  a  gallop.  The  Potawatami  made 
for  the  Suh-tai,  and  rode  even  with  him.  I  think  he 
saw  it  was  only  a  boy,  and  neither  of  them  had  a 
gun.  But  suddenly  as  their  horses  came  neck  and 
neck  Suh-tai  gave  a  leap  and  landed  on  the  Pota- 
watami's  horse  behind  the  rider.  It  was  a  trick  of 
his  with  which  he  used  to  scare  us.  He  would  leap 
on  and  off  before  you  had  time  to  think.  As  he 
clapped  his  legs  to  the  horse's  back  he  stuck  his 
knife  into  the  Potawatami.  The  man  threw  up  his 
arms  and  Suh-tai  tumbled  him  off  the  horse  in  an 
instant. 

"This  I  saw  because  Bed  Morning's  horse  had 

280 


THE  MEDICINE  OF  THE  ARROWS 

been  shot  under  him,  and  I  had  stopped  to  take 
him  up.  By  this  time  another  man  had  caught  a 
horse  and  I  had  got  my  lance  again  which  I  had 
left  leaning  against  a  tree.  I  faced  him  with  it  as 
he  came  on  at  a  dead  run,  and  for  a  moment  I 
thought  it  had  gone  clean  through  him,  but  really 
it  had  passed  between  his  arm  and  his  body  and 
he  had  twisted  it  out  of  my  hand. 

"  Our  horses  were  going  too  fast  to  stop,  but  Red 
Morning,  from  behind  me,  struck  at  the  head  of  the 
man's  horse  as  it  passed  with  his  knife-edged  club, 
and  we  heard  the  man  shout  as  he  went  down.  I 
managed  to  get  my  horse  about  in  time  to  see  Suh- 
tai,  who  had  caught  up  with  us,  trying  to  snatch  the 
Potawatami's  scalp,  but  his  knife  turned  on  one  of 
the  silver  plates  through  which  his  scalp-lock  was 
pulled,  and  all  the  Suh-tai  got  was  a  lock  of  the  hair. 
In  his  excitement  he  thought  it  was  the  scalp  and 
went  shaking  it  and  shouting  like  a  wild  man. 

"  The  Potawatami  pulled  himself  free  of  his  fallen 
horse  as  I  came  up,  and  it  did  me  good  to  see  the 
blood  flowing  from  under  his  arm  where  my  lance 
had  scraped  him.  I  rode  straight  at  him,  meaning 
to  ride  him  down,  but  the  horse  swerved  a  little  and 
got  a  long  wiping  stroke  from  the  Potawatami's 
knife,  from  which,  in  a  minute  more,  he  began  to 
stagger.  By  this  time  the  other  men  had  got  their 
guns  and  begun  shooting.  Suh-tai's  bow  had  been 
shot  in  two,  and  Red  Morning  had  a  graze  that  laid 

281 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

his  cheek  open.  So  we  got  on  our  own  ponies  and 
rode  away. 

"We  saw  other  men  riding  into  the  open,  but 
they  had  all  been  chasing  buffaloes,  and  our  ponies 
were  fresh.  It  was  not  long  before  we  left  the  shoot 
ing  behind.  Once  we  thought  we  heard  it  break 
out  again  in  a  different  direction,  but  we  were  full 
of  our  own  affairs,  and  anxious  to  get  back  to  the 
camp  and  brag  about  them.  As  we  crossed  the 
creek  Suh-tai  made  a  line  and  said  the  words  that 
made  it  Medicine.  We  felt  perfectly  safe. 

"It  was  our  first  fight,  and  each  of  us  had 
counted  coup.  Suh-tai  was  not  sure  but  he  had 
killed  his  man.  Not  for  worlds  would  he  have 
wiped  the  blood  from  his  knife  until  he  had  shown 
it  to  the  camp.  Two  of  us  had  wounds,  for  my  man 
had  struck  at  me  as  he  passed,  though  I  had  been 
too  excited  to  notice  it  at  the  time  .  .  .  '  Eyah ! ' 
said  the  Dog  Chief,  —  *  a  man's  first  scar  .  .  .  1 ' 
We  were  very  happy,  and  Red  Morning  taught  us 
his  song  as  we  rode  home  beside  the  Republican 
River. 

"  As  we  neared  our  own  camp  we  were  checked  in 
our  rejoicing;  we  heard  the  wails  of  the  women,  and 
then  we  saw  the  warriors  sitting  around  with  their 
heads  in  their  blankets  —  as  many  as  were  left  of 
them.  My  father  was  gone,  he  was  one  of  the  first 
who  was  killed  by  the  Potawatami." 

The  Dog  Chief  was  silent  a  long  time,  puffing 


THE  MEDICINE  OF  THE  ARROWS 

gently  on  his  pipe,  and  the  Officer  of  the  Yellow  Rope 
began  to  sing  to  himself  a  strange,  stirring  song. 

Looking  at  him  attentively  Oliver  saw  an  old 
faint  scar  running  across  his  face  from  nose  to  ear. 

"Is  your  name  Red  Morning?"  Oliver  wished 
to  know. 

The  man  nodded,  but  he  did  not  smile;  they  were 
all  of  them  smoking  silently  with  their  eyes  upon 
the  ground.  Oliver  understood  that  there  was  more 
and  turned  back  to  the  Dog  Chief. 

"Weren't  they  pleased  with  what  you  had 
done?"  he  asked. 

"  They  were  pleased  when  they  had  time  to  notice 
us,"  he  said,  "  but  they  did  n't  know  —  they  did  n't 
know  that  we  had  broken  the  Medicine  of  the  Ar 
rows.  It  did  n't  occur  to  us  to  say  anything  about 
the  time  we  had  left  the  camp,  and  nobody  asked 
us.  A  young  warrior,  Big  Head  he  was  called,  had 
also  gone  out  toward  the  enemy  before  the  Mystery 
was  over.  They  laid  it  all  to  him. 

"  And  at  that  time  we  did  n't  know  ourselves,  not 
till  long  afterward.  You  see,  we  thought  we  had 
got  away  from  the  Potawatami  because  our  ponies 
were  fresh  and  theirs  had  been  running  buffaloes. 
But  the  truth  was  they  had  followed  us  until  they 
heard  the  noise  of  the  shooting  where  Our  Folks 
attacked  the  Kitkahhahki.  It  was  the  first  they 
knew  of  the  attack  and  they  went  to  the  help  of 
their  friends. 

283 


THE  TRAIL  BOOK 

"Until  they  came  Our  Folks  had  all  the  advan 
tage.  But  the  Potawatami  shoot  to  kill.  They  carry 
sticks  on  which  to  rest  the  guns,  and  their  horses 
are  trained  to  stand  still.  Our  men  charged  them  as 
they  came,  but  the  Potawatami  came  forward  by 
tens  to  shoot,  and  loaded  while  other  tens  took  their 
places  .  .  .  and  the  Medicine  of  the  Arrows  had 
been  broken.  The  men  of  the  Potawatami  took  the 
hearts  of  our  slain  to  make  strong  Medicine  for  their 
bullets  and  when  the  Cheyennes  saw  what  they 
were  doing  they  ran  away. 

"But  if  we  three  had  not  broken  the  Medicine, 
the  Potawatami  would  never  have  been  in  that 
battle. 

"Thus  it  is,"  said  the  Dog  Soldier,  putting  his 
pipe  in  his  belt  and  gathering  his  robes  about  him, 
"that  wars  are  lost  and  won,  not  only  in  battle,  but 
in  the  minds  and  the  hearts  of  the  people,  and  by 
the  keeping  of  those  things  that  are  sacred  to  the 
people,  rather  than  by  seeking  those  things  that 
are  pleasing  to  one's  self.  Do  you  understand  this, 
my  son?" 

"I  think  so,"  said  Oliver,  remembering  what  he 
had  heard  at  school.  He  felt  the  hand  of  the  Dog 
Chief  on  his  shoulder,  but  when  he  looked  up  it  was 
only  the  Museum  attendant  come  to  tell  him  it  was 
closing  time. 

THE  END 


APPENDIX 

GLOSSARY  OF 
INDIAN  AND  SPANISH  NAMES 


APPENDIX 

THE  BEGINNING  OF  THE  TRAIL 

THE  appendix  is  that  part  of  a  book  in  which  you  find  the 
really  important  things,  put  there  to  keep  them  from  inter 
fering  with  the  story.  Without  an  appendix  you  might  not 
discover  that  all  of  the  important  things  in  this  book  really 
are  true. 

All  the  main  traveled  roads  in  the  United  States  began  as 
animal  or  Indian  trails.  There  is  no  map  that  shows  these 
roads  as  they  originally  were,  but  the  changes  are  not  so  many 
as  you  might  think.  Railways  have  tunneled  under  passes 
where  the  buffalo  went  over,  hills  have  been  cut  away  and 
swamps  filled  in,  but  the  general  direction  and  in  many  places 
the  actual  grades  covered  by  the  great  continental  highways 
remain  the  same. 

THE  BUFFALO  COUNTRY 

Licks  are  places  where  deer  and  buffaloes  went  to  lick  the 
salt  they  needed  out  of  the  ground.  They  were  once  salt 
springs  or  lakes  long  dried  up. 

Wallows  were  mudholes  where  the  buffaloes  covered  them 
selves  with  mud  as  a  protection  from  mosquitoes  and  flies. 
They  would  lie  down  and  work  themselves  into  the  muddy 
water  up  to  their  eyes.  Crossing  the  Great  Plains,  you  can 
still  see  round  green  places  that  were  wallows  in  the  days  of 
the  buffalo. 

The  Pawnees  are  a  roving  tribe,  in  the  region  of  the  Platte 
and  Kansas  Rivers.  If  they  were  just  setting  out  on  their 
journey  when  the  children  heard  them  they  would  sing:  — 

"Dark  against  the  sky,  yonder  distant  line 
Runs  before  us. 

Trees  we  see,  long  the  line  of  trees 
Bending,  swaying  in  the  wind. 

287 


APPENDIX 

"Bright  with  flashing  light,  yonder  distant  line 
Runs  before  us. 

Swiftly  runs,  swift  the  river  runs, 
Winding,  flowing  through  the  land.'* 

But  if  they  happened  to  be  crossing  the  river  at  the  time  they 
would  be  singing  to  Kawas,  their  eagle  god,  to  help  them. 
They  had  a  song  for  coming  up  on  the  other  side,  and  one  for 
the  mesas,  with  long,  flat-sounding  lines,  and  a  climbing  song 
for  the  mountains. 

You  will  find  all  these  songs  and  some  others  in  a  book  by 
Miss  Fletcher  in  the  public  library. 

TRAIL  TALK 

You  will  find  the  story  of  the  Coyote  and  the  Burning 
Mountain  in  my  book  The  Basket  Woman. 

The  Tenasas  were  the  Tennessee  Mountains.  Little  River 
is  on  the  map. 

Flint  Ridge  is  a  great  outcrop  of  flint  stone  in  Ohio,  near 
the  town  of  Zanesville.  Sky-Blue-Water  is  Lake  Superior. 

Cahokia  is  the  great  mound  near  St.  Louis,  on  the  Illinois 
side  of  the  river. 

When  the  Lenni-Lenape  speaks  of  a  Telling  of  his  Fathers 
about  the  mastodon  or  the  mammoth,  he  was  probably  think 
ing  of  the  story  that  is  pictured  on  the  Lenape  stone,  which 
seems  to  me  to  be  the  one  told  by  Arrumpa.  Several  Indian 
tribes  had  stories  of  a  large  extinct  animal  which  they  called 
the  Big  Moose,  or  the  Big  Elk,  because  moose  and  elk  were 
the  largest  animals  they  knew. 

ARRUMPA'S  STORY 

I  am  not  quite  certain  of  the  places  mentioned  in  this  story, 
because  the  country  has  so  greatly  changed,  but  it  must  have 
been  in  Florida  or  Georgia,  probably  about  where  the  Sa 
vannah  River  is  now.  It  is  in  that  part  of  the  country  we  have 

288 


APPENDIX 

the  proof  that  man  was  here  in  America  at  the  same  time  as 
the  mammoth. 

Shell  mounds  occur  all  along  the  coast.  No  doubt  the  first 
permanent  trails  led  to  them  from  the  hunting-grounds. 
Every  year  the  tribe  went  down  to  gather  sea-food,  and  left 
great  piles  of  shells  many  feet  deep,  sometimes  covering  sev 
eral  acres.  It  is  from  these  mounds  that  we  discover  the  most 
that  we  know  about  early  man  in  the  United  States. 

There  are  three  different  opinions  as  to  where  the  first  men 
in  America  came  from.  First,  that  they  came  from  some  place 
in  the  North  that  is  now  covered  with  Arctic  ice;  second,  that 
they  came  from  Europe  and  Africa  by  way  of  some  islands 
that  are  now  sunk  beneath  the  Atlantic  Ocean;  third,  that 
they  came  from  Asia  across  Behring  Strait  and  the  Aleutian 
Islands. 

The  third  theory  seems  the  most  reasonable.  But  also  it  is 
very  likely  that  some  people  did  come  from  the  lost  islands  in 
the  Atlantic,  and  left  traces  in  South  America  and  the  West 
Indies.  It  may  be  that  Dorcas  Jane  and  Oliver  will  yet  meet 
somebody  in  the  Museum  country  who  can  tell  them  about  it. 

The  Great  Cold  that  Arrumpa  speaks  about  must  have 
been  the  Ice  Age,  that  geologists  tell  us  once  covered  the  con 
tinent  of  North  America,  almost  down  to  the  Ohio  River.  It 
came  and  went  slowly,  and  probably  so  changed  the  climate 
that  the  elephants,  tigers,  camels,  and  other  animals  that  used 
to  be  found  in  the  United  States  could  no  longer  live  in  it. 

THE  COYOTE'S  STORY 

Tamal-Pyweack  —  Wall-of-Shining-Rocks  —  is  an  Indian 
name  for  the  Rocky  Mountains.  Backbone-of-the-World  is  an 
other. 

The  Country  of  the  Dry  Washes  is  between  the  Rockies 
and  the  Sierra  Nevadas,  toward  the  south.  A  dry  wash  is  the 
bed  of  a  river  that  runs  only  in  the  rainy  season.  As  such  riv- 

289 


APPENDIX 

ers  usually  run  very  swiftly,  they  make  great  ragged  gashes 
across  a  country. 

There  are  several  places  in  the  Rockies  called  Wind  Trap. 
The  Crooked  Horn  might  have  been  Pike's  Peak,  as  you  can 
see  by  the  pictures.  The  white  men  had  to  rediscover  this 
trail  for  themselves,  for  the  Indians  seemed  to  have  forgotten 
it,  but  the  railroad  that  passes  through  the  Rockies,  near 
Pike's  Peak,  follows  the  old  trail  of  the  Bighorn. 

It  is  very  likely  that  the  Indian  in  America  had  the  dog 
for  his  friend  as  soon  as  he  had  fire,  if  not  before  it.  Most  of 
the  Indian  stories  of  the  origin  of  fire  make  the  coyote  the  first 
discoverer  and  bringer  of  fire  to  man.  The  words  that  How- 
kawanda  said  before  he  killed  the  Bighorn  were  probably 
the  same  that  every  Indian  hunter  uses  when  he  goes  hunting 
big  game:  "0  brother,  we  are  about  to  kill  you,  we  hope 
that  you  will  understand  and  forgive  us."  Unless  they  say 
something  like  that  the  spirit  of  the  animal  killed  might  do 
them  some  mischief. 

THE  CORN  WOMAN'S  STORY 

Indian  corn,  mahiz,  or  maize,  is  supposed  to  have  come 
originally  from  Central  America.  But  the  strange  thing  about 
it  is  that  no  specimen  of  the  wild  plant  from  which  it  might 
have  developed  has  ever  been  found.  This  would  indicate 
that  the  development  must  have  taken  place  a  very  long  time 
ago,  and  the  parent  corn  may  have  belonged  to  the  age  of  the 
mastodon  and  other  extinct  creatures. 

Different  tribes  probably  brought  it  into  the  United  States 
at  different  times.  Some  of  it  came  up  the  Atlantic  Coast, 
across  the  West  Indies.  The  fragments  of  legend  from  which 
I  made  the  story  of  the  Corn  Woman  were  found  among  the 
Indians  that  were  living  in  Virginia,  Kentucky,  and  Tennes 
see  at  the  time  the  white  men  came. 

Chihuahua  is  a  province  and  city  in  Old  Mexico,  the  trail 
that  leads  to  it  one  of  the  oldest  lines  of  tribal  migration  on 
the  continent. 

290 


APPENDIX 

To  be  given  to  the  Sun  meant  to  have  your  heart  cut  out  on 
a  sacrificial  stone,  usually  on  the  top  of  a  hill,  or  other  high 
place.  The  Aztecs  were  an  ancient  Mexican  people  who  prac 
ticed  this  kind  of  sacrifice  as  a  part  of  their  religion.  If  it  was 
from  them  the  Corn  Woman  obtained  the  seed,  it  must  have 
been  before  they  moved  south  to  Mexico  City,  where  the 
Spaniards  found  them  in  the  sixteenth  century. 

A  teocali  was  an  Aztec  temple. 

MOKE-ICHA'S  STORY 

A  tipi  is  the  sort  of  tent  used  by  the  Plains  Indians,  made  of 
tanned  skins.  It  is  sometimes  called  a  lodge,  and  the  poles 
on  which  the  skins  are  hung  are  usually  cut  from  the  tree 
which  for  this  reason  is  called  the  lodge-pole  pine.  It  is  im 
portant  to  remember  things  like  this.  By  knowing  the  type 
of  house  used,  you  can  tell  more  about  the  kind  of  life  lived  by 
that  tribe  than  by  any  other  one  thing.  When  the  poles  were 
banked  up  with  earth  the  house  was  called  an  earth  lodge.  If 
thatched  with  brush  and  grass,  a  wickiup.  In  the  eastern 
United  States,  where  huts  were  covered  with  bark,  they  were 
generally  called  wigwams.  In  the  desert,  if  the  house  was 
built  of  sticks  and  earth  or  brush,  it  was  called  a  hogan,  and  if 
of  earth  made  into  rude  bricks,  a  pueblo. 

The  Queres  Indians  live  all  along  the  Rio  Grande  in  pueb 
los,  since  there  is  no  need  of  their  living  now  in  the  cliffs.  You 
can  read  about  them  at  Ty-uonyi  in  "The  Delight-Makers." 

A  kiva  is  the  underground  chamber  of  the  house,  or  if  not 
underground,  at  least  without  doors,  entered  from  the  top  by 
means  of  a  ladder. 

Shipapu,  the  place  from  which  the  Queres  and  other  pueblo 
Indians  came,  means,  in  the  Queres  language,  "  Black  Lake  of 
Tears,"  and  according  to  the  Zuni,  "Place  of  Encompassing 
Mist,"  neither  of  which  sounds  like  a  pleasant  place  to  live. 
Nevertheless,  all  the  Queres  expect  to  go  there  when  they  die. 

291 


APPENDIX 

It  is  the  Underworld  from  which  the  Twin  Brothers  led  them 
when  the  mud  of  the  earliest  world  was  scarcely  dried,  and 
they  seem  to  have  gone  wandering  about  until  they  found 
Ty-uonyi,  where  they  settled. 

The  stone  puma,  which  Moke-icha  thought  was  carved  in 
her  honor,  can  still  be  seen  on  the  mesa  back  from  the  river, 
south  of  Tyuonyi.  But  the  Navajo  need  not  have  made  fun  of 
the  ClhT-Dwellers  for  praying  to  a  puma,  since  the  Navajos 
of  to-day  still  say  their  prayers  to  the  bear.  The  Navajos  are 
a  wandering  tribe,  and  pretend  to  despise  all  people  who  live 
in  fixed  dwellings. 

The  "ghosts  of  prayer  plumes,"  which  Moke-icha  saw  in 
the  sky,  is  the  Milky  Way.  The  Queres  pray  by  the  use  of 
small  feathered  sticks  planted  in  the  ground  or  in  crevices  of 
the  rocks  in  high  and  lonely  places.  As  the  best  feathers  for 
this  purpose  are  white,  and  as  everything  is  thought  of  by 
Indians  as  having  a  spirit,  it  was  easy  for  them  to  think  of 
that  wonderful  drift  of  stars  across  the  sky  as  the  spirits  of 
prayers,  traveling  to  Those  Above.  If  ever  you  should  think 
of  making  a  prayer  plume  for  yourself,  do  not  on  any  account 
use  the  feathers  of  owl  or  crow,  as  these  are  black  prayers  and 
might  get  you  accused  of  witchcraft. 

The  Uakanyi,  to  which  Tse-tse  wished  to  belong,  were  the 
Shamans  of  War;  they  had  all  the  secrets  of  strategy  and 
spells  to  protect  a  man  from  his  enemies.  There  were  also 
Shamans  of  hunting,  of  medicine  and  priestcraft. 

It  was  while  the  Queres  were  on  their  way  from  Shipapu 
that  the  Delight-Makers  were  sent  to  keep  the  people  cheer 
ful.  The  white  mud  with  which  they  daubed  themselves  is  a 
symbol  of  light,  and  the  corn  leaves  tied  in  their  hair  signify 
fruitfulness,  for  the  corn  needs  cheering  up  also.  There  must 
be  something  in  it,  for  you  notice  that  clowns,  whose  busi 
ness  it  is  to  make  people  laugh,  always  daub  themselves  with 
white. 

292 


APPENDIX 

THE  MOUND-BUILDER'S  STORY 

The  Mound-Builders  lived  in  the  Mississippi  Valley  about 
a  thousand  years  ago.  They  built  chiefly  north  of  the  Ohio 
River,  until  they  were  driven  out  by  the  Lenni-Lenape  about 
five  hundred  years  before  the  English  and  French  began  to 
settle  that  country.  They  went  south  and  are  probably  the 
same  people  we  know  as  Creeks  and  Cherokees. 

Tallegewi  is  the  only  name  for  the  Mound-Builders  that 
has  come  down  to  us,  though  some  people  insist  that  it  ought 
to  be  Allegewi,  and  the  singulaf  instead  of  being  Tallega 
should  be  Allega. 

The  Lenni-Lenape  are  the  tribes  we  know  as  Delawares. 
The  name  means  "Real  People." 

The  Mingwe  or  Mingoes  are  the  tribes  that  the  French 
called  Iroquois,  and  the  English,  Five  Nations.  They  called 
themselves  "People  of  the  Long  House."  Mingwe  was  the 
name  by  which  they  were  known  to  other  tribes,  and  means 
"stealthy,"  "treacherous."  All  Indian  tribes  have  several 
names. 

The  Onondaga  were  one  of  the  five  nations  of  the  Iroquois. 
They  lived  in  western  New  York. 

Shinaki  was  somewhere  in  the  great  forest  of  Canada.  Na- 
maesippu  means  "Fish  River,"  and  must  have  been  that  part 
of  the  St.  Lawrence  between  Lakes  Erie  and  Huron. 

The  Peace  Mark  was  only  one  of  the  significant  ways  in 
which  Indians  painted  their  faces.  The  marks  always  meant 
as  much  to  other  Indians  as  the  device  on  a  knight's  shield 
meant  in  the  Middle  Ages. 

Scioto  means  "long  legs,"  in  reference  to  the  river's  many 
branches. 

Wabashiki  means  "gleaming  white,"  on  account  of  the 
white  limestone  along  its  upper  course. 

293 


APPENDIX 

Maumee  and  Miami  are  forms  of  the  same  word,  the  name 
of  the  tribe  that  once  lived  along  those  waters. 

Kaskaskia  is  also  the  name  of  a  tribe  and  means,  "They 
scrape  them  off,"  or  something  of  that  kind,  referring  to  the 
manner  in  which  they  get  rid  of  their  enemies,  the  Peorias. 

The  Indian  word  from  which  we  take  Sandusky  means 
"cold  springs,"  or  "good  water,  here,"  or  "water  pools," 
according  to  the  person  who  uses  it. 

You  will  find  all  these  places  on  the  map. 

"G'we/"  or  "Gowe/"  as  it  is  sometimes  written,  was  the 
war  cry  of  the  Lenape  and  the  Mingwe  on  their  joint  wars. 
At  least  that  was  the  way  it  sounded  to  the  people  who  heard 
it.  Along  the  eastern  front  of  these  nations  it  was  softened  to 
"  Zowie  !  "  and  in  that  form  you  can  hear  the  people  of  eastern 
New  York  and  Vermont  still  using  it  as  slang. 

THE  ONONDAGA'S  STORY 

The  Red  Score  of  the  Lenni-Lenape  was  a  picture  writing 
made  in  red  chalk  on  birch  bark,  telling  how  the  tribe  came 
down  out  of  Shinaki  and  drove  out  the  Tallegewi  in  a  hundred 
years'  war.  Several  imperfect  copies  of  it  are  still  in  existence 
and  one  nearly  perfect  interpretation  made  for  the  English 
colonists.  It  was  in  the  nature  of  short-hand  memoranda  of 
the  most  interesting  items  of  their  tribal  history,  but  unless 
Oliver  and  Dorcas  Jane  meet  somebody  in  the  Museum  coun 
try  who  knew  the  Tellings  that  went  with  the  Red  Score,  it  is 
unlikely  we  shall  ever  know  just  what  did  happen. 

Any  early  map  of  the  Ohio  Valley,  or  any  good  automobile 
map  of  the  country  south  and  east  of  the  Great  Lakes,  will 
give  the  Muskingham-Mahoning  Trail,  which  was  much  used 
by  the  first  white  settlers  in  that  country.  The  same  is  true  of 
the  old  Iroquois  Trade  Trail,  as  it  is  still  a  well-traveled  coun 
try  road  through  the  heart  of  New  York  State. 

294 


APPENDIX 

Muskingham  means  "Elk's  Eye,"  and  referred  to  the 
clear  brown  color  of  the  water.  Mahoning  means  "Salt 
Lick,"  or,  more  literally,  "There  a  Lick." 

Mohican-ittuck,  the  old  name  for  the  Hudson  River,  means 
the  river  of  the  Mohicans,  whose  hunting-grounds  were 
along  its  upper  reaches. 

Niagara  probably  means  something  in  connection  with  the 
river  at  that  point,  the  narrows,  or  the  neck.  According  to 
the  old  spelling  it  should  have  been  pronounced  Nee-a-gar'-a, 
but  it  is  n't. 

Adirondack  means  "Bark-Eaters,"  a  local  name  for  the 
tribe  that  once  lived  there  and  in  seasons  of  scarcity  ate  the 
inner  bark  of  the  birch  tree. 

Algonquian  is  a  name  for  one  of  the  great  tribal  groups, 
several  members  of  which  occupied  the  New  England  country 
at  the  beginning  of  our  history.  The  name  probably  means 
"Place  of  the  Fish-Spearing,"  in  reference  to  the  prow  of  the 
canoe,  which  was  occupied  by  the  man  with  the  fish  spear. 
The  Eastern  Algonquians  were  all  canoers. 

Wabaniki  means  "  Eastlanders,"  people  living  toward  the 
East. 

The  American  Indians,  like  all  other  people  in  the  world,  be 
lieved  in  supernatural  beings  of  many  sorts,  spirits  of  woods 
and  rocks,  Underwater  People  and  an  Underworld.  They 
had  stories  of  ghosts  and  flying  heads  and  giants.  Most  of 
the  tribes  believed  in  animals  that,  when  they  were  alone, 
laid  off  their  animal  skins  and  thought  and  behaved  as  men. 
Some  of  them  thought  of  the  moon  and  stars  as  other  worlds 
like  ours,  inhabited  by  people  like  us  who  occasionally  came 
to  earth  and  took  away  with  them  mortals  whom  they  loved. 
In  the  various  tribal  legends  can  be  found  the  elements  of  al 
most  every  sort  of  European  fairy  tale. 

Shaman  is  not  an  Indian  word  at  all,  but  has  been  generally 
adopted  as  a  term  of  respect  to  indicate  men  or  women  who 

295 


APPENDIX 

became  wise  in  the  things  of  the  spirit.  Sometimes  a  knowl 
edge  of  healing  herbs  was  included  in  the  Shaman's  educa 
tion,  and  often  he  gave  advice  on  personal  matters.  But  the 
chief  business  of  the  Shaman  was  to  keep  man  reconciled 
with  the  spirit  world,  to  persuade  it  to  be  on  his  side,  or  to 
prevent  the  spirits  from  doing  him  harm.  A  Shaman  was  not  a 
priest,  nor  was  he  elected  to  office,  and  in  some  tribes  he  did 
not  even  go  to  war,  but  stayed  at  home  to  protect  the  women 
and  children.  Any  one  could  be  a  Shaman  who  thought  him 
self  equal  to  it  and  could  persuade  people  to  believe  in  him. 

Taryenya-wagon  was  the  Great  Spirit  of  the  Five  Nations, 
who  was  also  called  "Holder  of  the  Heavens." 

Indian  children  always  belong  to  the  mother's  side  of  the 
house.  The  only  way  in  which  the  Shaman's  son  could  be 
born  an  Onondaga  was  for  the  mother  to  be  adopted  into  the 
tribe  before  the  son  was  born.  Adoptions  were  very  common, 
orphans,  prisoners  of  war,  and  even  white  people  being  made 
members  of  the  tribe  in  this  way. 

THE  SNOWY  EGRET'S  STORY 

The  Great  Admiral  was,  of  course,  Christopher  Columbus. 
You  will  find  all  about  him  and  the  other  Spanish  gentlemen 
in  the  school  history. 

Something  special  deserves  to  be  said  about  Panfilo  de 
Narvaez,  since  it  was  he  who  set  the  Spanish  exploration  of 
the  territory  of  the  United  States  in  motion.  He  landed  on 
the  west  coast  of  Florida  in  i548,  and  after  penetrating  only  a 
little  way  into  the  interior  was  driven  out  by  the  Indians. 
But  he  left  Juan  Ortiz,  one  of  his  men,  a  prisoner  among 
them,  who  was  afterward  discovered  by  Soto  and  became  his 
interpreter  and  guide. 

There  is  no  good  English  equivalent  for  Soto's  title  of  Ade- 
lantado.  It  means  the  officer  in  charge  of  a  newly  discovered 
country. 


APPENDIX 

Cay  is  an  old  Spanish  word  for  islet.  " Key"  is  an  English 
version  of  the  same  word.  Cay  Verde  is  "Green  Islet." 

The  pearls  of  Cofachique  were  fresh- water  pearls,  very  good 
ones,  too,  such  as  are  still  found  in  many  American  rivers  and 
creeks. 

The  Indians  that  Soto  found  were  very  likely  descended 
from  the  earlier  Mound-Builders  of  the  Ohio  Valley.  They 
showed  a  more  advanced  civilization,  which  was  natural, 
since  it  was  four  or  five  hundred  years  after  the  Lenni-Lenape 
drove  them  south.  Later  they  were  called  "Creeks"  by  the 
English,  on  account  of  the  great  number  of  streams  in  their 
country. 

Cacique  and  Cacica  were  titles  brought  up  by  the  Spaniards 
from  Mexico  and  applied  to  any  sort  of  tribal  rulers.  They 
are  used  in  all  the  old  manuscripts  and  have  been  adopted 
generally  by  modern  writers,  since  no  one  knows  just  what 
were  the  native  words. 

The  reason  the  Egret  gives  for  the  bird  dances  —  that  it 
makes  the  world  work  together  better  —  she  must  have 
learned  from  an  Indian,  since  there  is  always  some  such  rea 
son  back  of  every  primitive  dance.  It  makes  the  corn  grow  or 
the  rain  fall  or  the  heart  of  the  enemy  to  weaken.  The  Co- 
fachiquans  were  not  the  only  people  who  learned  their  dances 
from  the  water  birds,  as  the  ancient  Greeks  had  a  very  beau 
tiful  one  which  they  took  from  the  cranes  and  another  from 
goats  leaping  on  the  hills. 

THE  PRINCESS'S  STORY 

Hernando  de  Soto  landed  first  at  Tampa  Bay  in  Florida, 
and  after  a  short  excursion  into  the  country,  wintered  at  Ana- 
ica  Apalache,  an  Indian  town  on  Apalachee  Bay,  the  same  at 
which  Panfilo  de  Narvaez  had  beaten  his  spurs  into  nails  to 
make  the  boats  in  which  he  and  most  of  his  men  perished.  It 
was  between  Tampa  and  Anaica  Apalache  that  Soto  met  and 

297 


APPENDIX 

rescued  Juan  Ortiz,  who  had  been  all  that  time  a  prisoner  and 
slave  to  the  Indians. 

When  the  Princess  says  that  Talimeco  was  a  White  Town, 
she  means  that  it  was  a  Town  of  Refuge,  a  Peace  Town,  in 
which  no  killing  could  be  done.  Several  Indian  tribes  had 
these  sanctuaries. 

In  an  account  of  Soto's  expedition,  which  was  written 
sometime  afterward  from  the  stories  of  survivors,  it  is  said  by 
one  that  the  Princess  went  with  him  of  her  own  accord,  and 
by  another  that  she  was  a  prisoner.  The  truth  probably  is 
that  if  she  had  not  gone  willingly,  she  would  have  been  com 
pelled.  There  is  also  mention  of  the  man  to  whom  she  gave 
the  pearls  for  assisting  at  her  escape,  six  pounds  of  them,  as 
large  as  hazel  nuts,  though  the  man  himself  would  never  tell 
where  he  got  them. 

The  story  of  Soto's  death,  together  with  many  other  inter 
esting  things,  can  be  read  in  the  translation  of  the  original 
account  made  by  Frederick  Webb  Hodge. 

THE  ROAD-RUNNER'S  STORY 

Cabeza  de  Vaca  was  one  of  Narvaez's  men  who  was  cast 
ashore  in  one  of  the  two  boats  ever  heard  from,  on  the  coast 
of  Texas.  He  wandered  for  six  years  in  that  country  before 
reaching  the  Spanish  settlements  in  Old  Mexico,  and  it  was 
his  account  of  what  he  saw  there  and  in  Florida  that  led  to 
the  later  expeditions  of  both  Soto  and  Coronado. 

Francisco  de  Coronado  brought  his  expedition  up  from  Old 
Mexico  in  i54o,  and  reached  Wichita  in  the  summer  of  i54i. 
His  party  was  the  first  to  see  and  describe  the  buffalo.  There 
is  an  account  of  the  expedition  written  by  Castenada,  one  of 
his  men,  translated  by  Frederick  Webb  Hodge,  which  is  easy 
and  interesting  reading. 

The  Seven  Cities  were  the  pueblos  of  Old  Zuni,  some  of 
which  are  still  inhabited.  Ruins  of  the  others  may  be  seen  in 

298 


APPENDIX 

the  Valley  of  Zuni  in  New  Mexico.  The  name  is  a  Spanish 
corruption  of  Ashiwi,  their  own  name  for  themselves.  We  do 
not  know  why  the  early  explorers  called  the  country  "Ci- 
bola." 

The  Colorado  River  was  first  called  Rio  del  Tizon,  ''River 
of  the  Brand,"  by  the  Spaniards,  on  account  of  the  local  cus 
tom  of  carrying  fire  in  rolls  of  cedar  bark.  Coronado's  men 
were  the  first  to  discover  the  Grand  Canon. 

Pueblo,  the  Spanish  word  for  "town,"  is  applied  to  all  In 
dians  living  in  tlie  terraced  houses  of  the  southwest.  The 
Zunis,  Hopis,  and  Queres  are  the  principal  pueblo  tribes. 

You  will  find  Tiguex  on  the  map,  somewhere  between  the 
Ty-uonyi  and  the  place  where  the  Corn  Woman  crossed  the 
Rio  Grande.  Cicuye  is  on  the  map  as  Pecos,  in  Texas. 

The  Pawnees  at  this  time  occupied  the  country  around  the 
Platte  River.  Their  name  is  derived  from  a  word  meaning 
"horn,"  and  refers  to  their  method  of  dressing  the  scalplock 
with  grease  and  paint  so  that  it  stood  up  stiffly,  ready  to  the 
enemy's  hand.  Their  name  for  themselves  is  Chahiksichi- 
hiks,  "Men  of  men." 

THE  CONDOR'S  STORY 

The  Old  Zuni  Trail  may  still  be  followed  from  the  Rio 
Grande  to  the  Valley  of  Zuni.  El  MO/TO,  or  "Inscription 
Rock,"  as  it  is  called,  is  between  Acoma  and  the  city  of  Old 
Zuni  which  still  goes  by  the  name  of  "Middle  Ant  Hill  of  the 
World." 

In  a  book  by  Charles  Lummis,  entitled  Strange  Corners  of 
Our  Country,  there  is  an  excellent  description  of  the  Rock  and 
copies  of  the  most  interesting  inscriptions,  with  translations. 

The  Padres  of  Southwestern  United  States  were  Franciscan 
Friars  who  came  as  missionaries  to  the  Indians.  They  were 
not  all  of  them  so  unwise  as  Father  Letrado. 

Peyote,  the  dried  fruit  of  a  small  cactus,  the  use  of  which 
was  only  known  in  the  old  days  to  a  few  of  the  Medicine 

299 


APPENDIX 

Men.  The  effect  was  like  that  of  opium,  and  gave  the  user 
visions.. 

THE  DOG  SOLDIER'S  STORY 

The  Cheyenne  Country,  at  the  time  of  this  story,  was  south 
of  the  Pawnees,  along  the  Taos  Trail.  All  Plains  Indians 
move  about  a  great  deal,  so  that  you  will  not  always  hear  of 
them  in  the  same  neighborhood. 

You  can  read  how  the  Cheyennes  were  saved  from  the 
Hoh  by  a  dog,  in  a  book  by  George  Bird  Grinnell,  called  the 
Fighting  Cheyennes.  There  is  also  an  account  in  that  book  of 
how  their  Medicine  Bundle  was  taken  from  them  by  the  Paw 
nees,  and  how,  partly  by  force  and  partly  by  trickery,  three  of 
the  arrows  were  recovered. 

The  Medicine  Bundle  of  the  tribe  is  as  sacred  to  them  as 
our  flag  is  to  us.  It  stands  for  something  that  cannot  be  ex 
pressed  in  any  other  way.  They  feel  sure  of  victory  when  it 
goes  out  with  them,  and  think  that  if  anything  is  done  by  a 
member  of  the  tribe  that  is  contrary  to  the  Medicine  of  the 
Tribe,  the  whole  tribe  will  suffer  for  it.  This  very  likely  is  the 
case  with  all  national  emblems ;  at  any  rate,  it  would  probably 
be  safer  while  our  tribe  is  at  war  not  to  do  anything  contrary 
to  what  our  flag  stands  for.  All  that  is  left  of  the  Cheyenne 
Bundle  is  now  with  the  remnant  of  the  tribe  in  Oklahoma. 
The  fourth  arrow  is  still  attached  to  the  Morning  Star  Bundle 
of  the  Pawnees,  where  it  may  be  seen  each  year  in  the  spring 
when  the  Medicine  of  the  Bundle  is  renewed. 

This  is  the  song  the  Suh-tai  boy  —  the  Suh-tai  are  a  sub- 
tribe  of  the  Cheyenne  —  made  for  his  war  club :  — 

"Hickory  bough  that  the  wind  makes  strong,  — 

I  made  it  — 
Bones  of  the  earth,  the  granite  stone,  — 

I  made  it  — 
Hide  of  the  bull  to  bind  them  both,  — 

I  made  it  — 
Death  to  the  foe  who  destroys  our  land,  — 

We  make  it!" 

300 


APPENDIX 

The  line  that  the  Suh-tai  boy  drew  between  himself  and  the 
pursuing  Potawatomi  was  probably  a  line  of  sacred  meal,  or 
tobacco  dust,  drawn  across  the  trail  while  saying,  "  Give  me 
protection  from  my  enemies;  let  none  of  them  pass  this  line. 
Shield  my  heart  from  them.  Let  not  my  life  be  threatened." 
Unless  the  enemy  possesses  a  stronger  Medicine,  this  makes 
one  safe. 


GLOSSARY  OF 
INDIAN  AND  SPANISH  NAMES 


a  sounds  like  a  in  father 
a      "        "a  "  bay 
a      "        "a  "  fat 
a      "        "a  "  sofa 


a      ace 
e  "  met 
e  "  me 
e  "  her 


A'-co-ma 

A-che'-se 

A-de-lan-ta'-do 

Al-ta-pa'-ha 

Al'-var  Nunez  (noon'-yath)  Ca-be'- 

za  (tha)  de  Va'-cS 
An-a-t'-ca 

A-pach'-e 

A-pa-la'-che 

A-piin-ke'-wIs 

Ar-ap'-a-hOes 

Ar-rum'-pa 

Bal-b6r-a 

Bts-cfiy'-ne 

Cabeza  de  Vaca  (ca-be'-thS  de 

va'-ca) 
Ca-ct'-ca 

Ca-ct'que' 

Ca-ho'-kX-d 

Cay  Vgrd'-e 

Cen-te-o'-th' 

Cha-hlk-st-chi'-h&s 

Cheyenne  (shl-^n') 

Chi-a' 

Chihuahua  (chi-wa'-wS) 

Ct'-bo-la 


i 

I       " 

I       " 

6       " 

6      " 

Q       " 
u      " 

Ct'-cfl-ye 
Cz'-no-ave 


e  eve 
i  "  pin 
i  "  pine 

o  "  note 
o  "  not 

oo  "  food 
u    "  nut 


Co-fa-cht'-que 
Co-faque' 
Co-man'-che 
Cor-tez' 

Di-nef 

El  Mor'-ro 


Fran-cis'-c5  de  Co-rO-na'-do 
Fran-ces'-co  Le-tra'-do 

Ga-hon'-ga 
Gan-da'-yah 

Ha-lo'-na 
Ha'-wi-kuh 
H5r-nan'-d5  de  So'-to 


Ho'-gan 
Ho-he' 
Ho'-pi 
Ho-tai'  (tl) 
How-ka-wan'-da 


303 


GLOSSARY 


J'-rS-quois 

/s'-lay 

/s-st'-wun' 

Juan  de  Onate  (hwSn  de  on-ya'-te) 
Juan  Ortiz  (hwan  or'-tiz) 

Ka-bey'-de 

Ka-na'-wdh 

Kas-kas'-kl-d 

Kat'-zi-mo 

K'ia-kz'-ma 

Kl'-6-was 

Ktt-kah-hah'-ka 

Ki'-va 

Ko-ko'-mo 

Koos-koos'-k! 

Ko-sha'-re 


Lu'-cas  de  AyUon  (Il'-yOn) 
Lujan 


Mahiz  (ma-iV) 

Ma'-huts 

Mal-do-na'-d6 

Mat'-sa-kt 

M6n'-gwe 

Mesquite  (mes-keet') 

MJn'-go 

Mo-hi'-can-Kt'-tuck 

Mo-ke-lch'-a 

M'tou'-Wn 

Miis-ldng'-ham 

Na-mae-st'p'-pfl 
Narvaez  (nar-va'-eth) 
Navajo  (na'-va-h6) 

Nt-S-tt 

No'-pal 

Nfl-kg'-wls 

Occatilla  (oc-ca-ttl'-ya) 

Ock-mul'-gee 

D'-co-nee 


D-ciit'-c 
O-dow'-as 


Olla  (6l'-ya) 

Ong-ya-tas'-se 

On-Sn-da'-ga 

O-pa'-ta 

0-w6n-ung'-a 

Fan-fi'-lo  de  Nar-va'-ez  (eth) 

Pan-u'-co 

Paw-nee' 

Pe'-cos 

Pe'-drO  M5'-rSn 

Pe-ri'-cS 

Pe-yo'-te 


Pitahaya 
Pi-zar'-ro 
Ponce  (pon'-the) 
P6t-a-wat'-a-im 
Pueblo 

Que-re'-chOs 
Que'-res 
Que-re-san' 
Qui-vi'-ra 


Ri'-t6  de  los  Frijoles  (fH-ho'-les) 


Sahuaro  (sa 
Scioto  (sl-o'-tO) 
Sha'-mdn 
Shi-nak'-i 
Ship-a-pu' 


Sho-sho'-nes 
Shung-a-ke'-la 
Sons  e'-so,  tse'-na 
Suh-tai'  (tl) 

Ta'-ku-Wa'-ldn 
Tal-t-me'-cO 
Tal-le'-ga 
Tal-le-ge'-wi 


304 


GLOSSARY 


Ta'-mal-Py-wg-ack' 
Ta'-os 

Tar-ySn-yd-wag'-on 
Tejo  (ta'-ho) 
TSn'-a-sas 


Thla-po-po-ke'-S 

Ti-a'-kSns 

Tiguex  (tt'-gash) 

Tt'-pz 

Tom'-bes 

To-ya-lan'-na 

Tse-ise-yo'-te 

Tsts-tsis'-tas 


Tiis-ca-loos'-a 
Ty-u-on'-yt 

U-a-kan-ytv 
Var'-gas 

Wa-ba-moQ'-ln 
Wa-ba-nt'-ki 

wa-ba-sh*'-y 

Wap'-3f-tl 
Wich'-i-tas 

Zuni  (zto'-yee) 


(fcfce  fctoertfbe 

CAMBRIDGE  .  MASSACHUSETTS 
U    .    S    .   A 


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